The Winter Interprets

The winter interprets to you
Its moving snow, the silent sermons they do
Departs the leaf the color of gold
Depart their trees in the wake of cold
Depart the words my poems once told
Departs the hour from the clutches of old
There is grace in winter’s nights
In the needles of light imprisoned in ice
The winter interprets to me
The bells in the wind, their secret history