shroud

Jane’s House

elegant in white
morning mist and magnolias
shroud your sanctuary

the morning
shrouded
in mystical cold

a heavy snow
with the lightest of flakes
thus descends a shroud of cold

the quieting white
shrouds
December’s last days

shrouded grey December day
clouds carry today’s hope

dormancy depends
on darkness gathering round
the necessary shroud
sheltering inchoate spring

iris is cloaked
in the spider’s shroud
to be seen again
on their spring resurrection

Wearing a shroud of winter
the rock sculpture endures
certain of Spring’s dominion.

Beneath the shroud of early morning mist
all creatures and growing things pause
and give thanks for the coming day.