Just woods. Just life. Just ice.

a look at present tense

Cloud caught moon of silvered strand
Black velvet thorn. night drowning hand
Off trail glimpse of staring owl
Icy wood in winter's thrall
The secret sound of running sap
The sound of Spring escaping

To weigh the silence of the night
On scales of Summer's sweet delight
Has yet a scent of rutting Fall
The thunder sound of blood enthralled
To taste. to feel the nectar rain
Of indrawn breath as I remain
Spectate to a mouse' demise
By shorteared owl from silent skies
Still struck stance in awe immense
Of they who live in present tense
The balance slips the scale awry
Today you live, today you die.

Reviews

[Reuben Porter]

I simply love this poem, I am adding it to my library.
The visuals are amazing, I could picture, smell, and feel everything as I read it.