The Echo Sylphs of Winter

 

The day closed in with mist and rain

And hills dissolved as shadow clouds.

The limits of the air and land

Were waters flowing, merged and blurred.

 

The river rolled its mirror heart,

And trout were birds and birds were trout.

As peat-smoke was the mid-day sky:

It sank through depths of weed and pike.

 

A dead tree, shattered by a storm,

Now spiked its bark into the fog.

As fungus drenched its core in spores

And from its tips the tree dripped life.

 

The air was heavy, forests light,

The river floated, day was night.

 

 

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5 Comments to “The Echo Sylphs of Winter”

  1. That last stanza is magical!

  2. I like it it’s fanciful….

  3. Wonderful, beautiful.

  4. I read “The Echo Sylphs of Winter” silently twice…then read it aloud to myself. Each time it gained in beauty.

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