A Landscape

Winter breathes in
the subtle colors

of a doe's hide, tawny eyelash
brown, smoothed against
the musty green of pine

the flaking bark of birches,
gleaming soft metallic
in a feathered wisp of moon

the blue-gray bend of snow shadow,
curved like
the throats of birds
who sing awake the dark morning

Twilight spills its umbra
thick and mottled gray

the color of rotting violets,
or a sonata played
late at night, note by
note.