Life With Horace

poetry & essays


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The growing point

Upright still sentry
outlier for the world beneath
a winter effigy belying spring’s next promise
it stands in ice and snow

A window sill
bright warmth and light
protects a tender shoot
fresh green against
the gray and silver backdrop
green lava moving upward

My own such point
is not so clearly seen or felt
a junction of my spirit
trust and will reagents for the heady mix
that grows joy in my soul

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A poem for a winter afternoon, as the days draw down to the solstice.