In Late Winter by Fredric Hildebrand

Bone-white ground crusty

underfoot. In the clearing,

snowbanks warmed to dripping

by the sun. A new smell

of water. The creek swollen

and swift under its thin cover

of clear ice. Above, nesting

ravens call and clamor

in the treetops. The sky

a field of blue. Sun mild

on my face. Pieces of spring,

mysterious as a closed

bud, new as the warm wind,

peeling back at last

the gray layers of winter.

---

Fredric Hildebrand is a retired physician living in Neenah, WI. He is the author of two poetry chapbooks, "Northern Portrait" (Kelsay Books, 2020), and "A Glint of Light" (Finishing Line Press, 2020). His recent poetry has appeared in The McGuffin and Loud Coffee Press. When not writing or reading, Fredric plays acoustic folk guitar and explores the Northwoods with his wife and two Labrador retrievers.