At Dawn

Several days ago, our good friend Len Burgess posted the latest in his ongoing, seasonal Ice Crystal series. I love these photos; they both please the eye and incite the imagination.

Here is a re-post of Len’s photos and a short poem that I’ve composed that tries to capture what I saw when I looked at the images.

At Dawn

At dawn we walk through a forest of frozen firs,

their branches dipping to snag our hats and drip

ice down our backs and send chills to our toes,

with snow underfoot and shadowy woods ahead.

But the young sun’s glow gives a sweet caress

and promises us shelter as we trudge through

this strange, mysterious and glorious world

of shadow and light, of biting cold and loving warmth.

Marty Luster