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.