Winter (part 4): A Priest's Reflection

Author: Stephen W. Cote

The crows circle in columns,

Black birds belying creamy clouds.

They forget the fawn fog

In all it's bichrome blaze,

Or the crystalline cannonade

Of a million meandering muted maculations,

And behind the glorious glacial gasconade

Were the forgotten prayers for spells.

Several squirrels scampering in the squalor,

Frolicking far from home,

Rhythmically raised ruby receptors,

Lethargically lactating on leaves and listening

To the tumultuous tyranny's timbre

Of sugar showering the millennium's macabre,

Dreamless to the discovery of the Doppler din

And lost in those sounds were the prayers for spells.

And a soldier's spouse spoiled the scallywag,

Raised him to the rickety rocker to remind him

Of silly stories she should have shared

If work hadn't worn her will and weathered her worth.

They lunched on lentils and a little lemon,

A solitary source of sour sustenance,

And when she suffers and slumbers in the silence

I'll whisper for them my prayers for spells.