LOVE IN THE EARLY WINTER
I open the window
and breathe in so much air
that the rest of the world pauses
through lack of oxygen.
I am gulping in the serenity
of early winter in the morning.
There's no bustle of breeze
so the grasses are still,
and the water race is duty bound
to reflect a frame of land.
This is the best season for light,
which flings itself
in acrobat angles on whatever
takes its fancy.
The view spreads
up the valley and waits
by the hills.
Jenny Powell
from her collection HATS, published by HeadworX, New Zealand (2000)
I couldn't resist posting this poem by Jenny in addition to The Physiotherapist's Piano that appears on the Tuesday Poem hub. Love In The Early Winter is a declaration - an exclamation - to the McKenzie country, a place of high skies, sheep stations, thermal currents, lakes and lupins.
Ah, a poem whose exuberance and restraint one can enter, breathe in, trust. . .
Thank you, Jenny.
Thank you, Jenny.
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