Recalling a Song, Far Away, Long Ago

Bare Trees in Winter

"What the Bare Trees Tell Us"

has never been published.

Photo Source:

http://secondbadvent.wordpress.com

What the Bare Trees Tell Us

James Hart

“I was alone in the cold of a winter’s day . . . .”

from “Bare Trees” – Fleetwood Mac

Looking at the bare trees

this morning while I’m driving

through town on my way home from errands,

coffee aroma filling the car,

I’m almost certain

I hear echoes of familiar music, a song

from yesterdays returning whole. Atmosphere

writes its foggy lyrics

over windshield and windows,

wipers erase dim cat tracks ghosted over

glass from a stray seeking shelter

in our garage last night.

Memory of a simplicity

regained often moves us toward moments

of flow and counter flow, like a vision

where waves across water seem

to lap backward in the wind’s

thrust, yet move on. You recall the deep sky

mirrors only summer blues, clouds gallop

in the pastures of the wind,

a passing neighbor’s car horn

neighs his welcome with his wave out

the window. Caught up in glimmers

remembered, you know the farm

is gone, the fallen house

fed a fire, the barn brought down by angry

wind, all the neighbors you knew in summer’s youth

retreated to embracing sod, yet

the wind’s gray lady babbles on

how winter’s day changes everything,

a chant from misty reaches of her noble soul:

“beautiful, beautiful, love, love, our own.” 

February 10, 2013