NO LAUGHTER LINGERS IN THE WIND
No summer scents are carried by
the caravans of frosted wind
no man nor beast disturbs the land
as night reclaims the day.
.
No running sap in trunk or bough
in winters sombre recesses
no bird recites recurring staves
on tracks in ancient lands.
.
No dreams of green materialise
to break the trance of winters hold
on shores that knew the ruffled wave
before the first ship sailed.