by Jon Hamp
Cloud breaks,
Bright.
Cold still, but warming,
Squirrel foot on branch.
Soft and just,
Like this.
Mornings build
Light in Eastern towers.
Seeking out lost winter spaces, gently,
Soft and just,
Like this.
The forest sends out
trees for friendship
greening, reaching, calling
out now.
Soft and just.
Like this.
