When the rooks return
They know Spring is coming
The snow fades into muddy ruts
Walking will not lead to frozen feet
boots cracking with ice.
Columns march to the front
past the old church, the Pastor long gone
to tend a safer flock
Horses breathing white mist
from nostrils flared in anticipation
of spurs and mud and cannon flare
Pelisse and sabres glint
Soldiers spit and
leave the warmth of home
again, to fight as rooks
when they return to the bare trees.
(An Ekphrastic Poem inspired by the painting of the same name by Aleksei Kondratevich- Savrasov 1871)