March, Winter’s Death Mask by Marion

Winter Snow, 2015

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March, Winter’s Death Mask

By Marion Lawless

The spindly, naked trees are gently swaying—

one warm day, a row of tiny

leaves appear, marching up the branches,

specks of green from dead-looking, dry limbs,

like baby grasshoppers walking slowly in file.

Cold returns for a bleak few weeks,

knocking on the doors and windows, trees bowing in respect,

the jade leaves clinging as if glued to each branch.

Cold rain beating the new emerald-hued grass

sheets of ice, clear, like bits of tiny broken glass

fighting to stay much longer, in spite of time passing,

the sunshine gently molding mud, 

an annual mystical task...preparing

Winter’s death mask.

3/11/19