In the trees near the top of Mount Kearsage.
Mount Kearsage shines with ice: from hemlock branches
snow slides onto snow; no stream, creek, or river
budges but remains still. Tonight
we carry armloads of logs
from woodshed to Glenwood and build up the fire
that keeps the coldest night outside our windows.
Sit by the woodstove, Jane Kenyon,
while I bring glasses of white
From "The Peepers, the Woodshed,'' by Donald Hall, a former U.S. Poet Laureate. The late Jane Kenyon, also a poet, was his wife. He lives in Wilmot, N.H., near Mount Kearsage.
