#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Old snow freshened with fallen leaves is what calls to me on a walk in woods this morning.
Here's my poem inspired beeches. Written a couple of years ago, it was first published in Kindred, Issue 10.
Winter Beech
It’s cold in the mirror these mornings
I wake up to this face with new lines
laying tracks over loosening skin –
it’s cold in the woods as I walk into wind
shaking the bony limbs of hardwoods
where I am learning to believe in beech leaves,
diaphanous in winter, lasting so long on their branches
they let go by accident, falling into footprints of hikers, dogs, deer –
how they shimmer on snow, lighting this way into the woods
like gold leaf brushed on whitest blue canvas, showing me
how any release may land in catastrophe
or something improvisational as grace –
if I say yes I am aging, aging
I may never stop being
how beauty is
yes
All photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar 2016