Essence of Cold

Copyright 2010
Judith J. Bentley

Winter stretches its white glove
over tracks vanished creatures
have left long ago, reminders
of an earlier season.

Silence settles on the snow
like the grace of God.
River ice washes the ancient stones,
and trees, like a mother's arms.
lean over the land that sleeps.

It is this place, a pony pasture,
that calls us into the company of women
and keeps us there to learn its lesson--
the essence of cold.