Three Poems

DRAGONS IN THE SNOW

Thaw to the hedgerows
left white crosses on the hill;
      the first thrush sang.

Now a buzzard cries, confirming
      silence under all.

The few bare trees are darker
for the fall that covers
      boundaries,
and in their place reveals
contrasting absolutes.

We are so small,
the boy and I, between
the snowclouds and the snow.

He starts from here,
who talks of dragons
...