resurrection
in the morning, in the winter
ice crusts the earth
frost forms on loamy footpaths,
fishbone leaves,
in the shadow of stones.
the cold needles the flesh of cheeks
then the sun turns up, comes around
a heat presses down on the earth ever so lightly
frost beads to water, disperses
lifts in the air, rises
to join the sky
the earth turns, rolls around like a lion caressed
its face directed to the sun
the earth warms
as the temperature rises
by slow degrees
Acknowledgement: 40° South magazine
