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
a 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
reagent 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.