NORTHERN WOODS

Walking, while watching
barren gray branches
against stone gray sky,
these bones, these knees
feel cold – feel old,
hesitant drizzle or fog
in my face, as I walk,
as I make nature’s
way of the cross
this Lent, in these woods,
all so late to green,
yet knowing, each step,
each station will bring Spring,
will bring resurrection.
I know green buds
reappear every year.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2009