Walking alone

How long the winter has lasted - like a Mahler
symphony, or an hour in the dentist's chair.
In the fields the grasses are matted
and gray, making me think of June, when hay
and vetch burgeon in the heat, and warm rain
swells the globed buds of the peony
....................................
The wind is keen coming over the ice;
it carries the sound of breaking grass.
And the sun, bright but not warm,
has gone behind the hill. Chill, or the fear
of chill, sends me hurrying home.

Excerpt" "Walking Alone in late Winter" ~ Jane Kenyon