Ashley's coming to town

As I wait for my friend Ashley to arrive, I watch the light and swirling snow. It's pretty but it's cold and the branches are all bare and I wish the sun was out.

So, here's a poem just for today: (another Jane Kenyon)

"February: Thinking of Flowers"

Now wind torments the field,
turning the white surface back
on itself, back and back on itself,
like an animal licking a wound.

Nothing but white- the air, the light;
only one brown milkweed pod
bobbing in the gully, smallest
brown boat on the immense tide.

A single green sprouting thing
would restore me....

Then think of the tall delphinium,
swaying, or the bee when it comes
to the tongue of the burgundy lily.