Hidden
By Marilyn Wheeless, Kenai
Not beauty, some would say,
To see the black spruce starkly
Pierce the morning sky, beside
The birch and willow, bare stems
Like arrows pointing up toward
Morning star. Beauty, a famous
Person said, is in the eye of the
Beholder. And I behold the drops
Of yesterday’s rain, frozen in time
Like diamonds decorating every twig
Of birch or willow and even larch,
While accented by stark spruce that
Never lose their bushy bristly hiding
Place for chickadee and nuthatch seeds
Against the coming winter season.
There is beauty in stark as a contrast
To the fullness of summer. I behold shapes
My eyes don’t notice until the first frosts and
Snows of winter outline every fence post,
Every branch and standing grass, and peeking
From between the trunks of stark willow and
Spruce, I finally see the moose.
