Behind hedge, in sheltered hollow.
wind-blown drifts of snow resist
reluctant February sun; thin
as temper of impatient crows:
who, raucous with their clamour, in
early courtships black persist.
And blurry through a rat-tat-tat
of rain splattered, upstairs screen;
descending down a darkened shute,
a bare fingered clasp of trees: that
vanishing point where branch and root
disclose fern’s defiant green.
1986
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