To Honor the January Cold

summer death
        winter resurrection

July's fire raged across
lush northern woods,
its blackened, burned land
cleansed of every living thing,
its deep, clear lakes exposed,
the charred land waits

silence hangs over
western mountain forests,
the sun shines relentless,
not a leaf moves on trees,
birds make their passage
in straight lines without
sounds of their songs in the air,
everything suspended to
conserve energy
until saving rains come

dreamt last night
it was bitter January cold,
huge stacks of mail arrived,
dozens of seed catalogs,
pages and more pages
of bright pictures,
sweet promises
from the fertile earth

              from Waiting for the Heat to Pass,
                                        Elizabeth Nagel