There is a bright light
on the pines and on their stems.
Lichens on their bark.
December 4, 1850
First cloudless morning,
Goose Pond froze over last night.
The coldest day yet.
Little tree sparrow
made to withstand the winter,
perched on a white birch.
The bird-like birch scales
blown into the hollows of
the thin crusted snow.
December 4, 1856
Smooth white reaches of
ice as long as the river's
dark-blue artery.
December 4, 1856
Dark waves chasing each
other across the river –
breaking the snow ice.
December 4, 1856
Acres of blue-curls
and ragged wormwood rising
above shallow snow.
December 4, 1856
Awake to winter,
the first snow of consequence
two or three inches.
December 4, 1859
 |
| December 4, 2017 |
A Book of the Seasons, by Henry Thoreau
"A book, each page written in its own season,
out-of-doors, in its own locality.”
~edited, assembled and rewritten by zphx © 2009-2020
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