Winter Light by John Muro
On a day fashioned by cold and mid-winter sun,
The estuary unfolds like an esplanade in pale,
Pleasing light, bordered by the glazed stalks of
Marsh grasses, leafless trees and small knolls
Of overturned boats, the still water collecting
Colors that spread out on a thin film of ice
Like a second skin. Arabesques of snow take
To air in an intermittent winter wind,
Glistening in the loose apparel of pearl with
Tinsel trim, drifting down towards shallows
Where round tidal stones sparkle like shell
Casings. Day deepening, we can see how
All things are buttered by day’s after-light,
And how, like a soul, it diffuses into – and
Yet draws apart from – all things and how,
Even at night, when all the world’s asleep,
It can still break upon the world and curve
Back upon itself so that all things appear
Upside down with stars winking as if they
Were shattered shells, lavish ornaments or
Flecks of gold glistening in currents of clear water.
A life-long resident of Connecticut, John is a graduate of Trinity College, Wesleyan University and the University of Connecticut. His professional career has been dedicated to environmental stewardship and conservation, and he has held several executive and volunteer positions in those fields. His first volume of poems, In the Lilac Hour, was published last fall by Antrim House, and it is available on Amazon. His poems have been published or will soon be published in Euphony, Clementine Unbound, Freshwater, Amethyst Review and elsewhere.