WINTER

WINTER, a sharp bitter day
the robin turns plump against the cold
the sun is week
silver faded from gold
he is late in his coming and short in his stay
Man, beast, bird and air all purging, all cleansing,
earth already purified awaits the rite of spring
Her bridal gown a virgin snow and frosts in her hair
A snowdrop by the road today bowed gracefully and high upon the wing
up in the sparkling nothingness,
a lone bird began to singCan gentle spring be far away?

Tommy Makem

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