Waiting for Winter by Bruce Gunther

Waiting for Winter

All that remains is the crow’s nest
clinging to barren branches.
The skeletons of French lilacs
rest for the long journey
toward spring.
Leaden skies are paired with stillness.
We, too, hunker down as winter
trudges in on heavy, loud boots,
idling at this junction of rest
and potential rebirth.
The yard cleared of the maple’s
autumn suit; brittle leaves clatter
like playing cards over the pavement.
The potential of the days ahead:
snowbound, wind with sharpened teeth,
the futile spin of tires, tread
lodged in wet snow.
Present, too, this resolve to live
on nature’s terms – to unfold
within this powerful silence.

by Bruce Gunther

Twitter: @BruceGunther3

Editor’s Note: In this liminal winter week, the clear imagery of this poem feels particularly apt.

3 thoughts on “Waiting for Winter by Bruce Gunther

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.