PoetryRepairShop
Contemporary International Poetry
new, emerging, and established poets

issue 9905:19

by John Bailey

WINTER HARVEST



On the claws of my thornbush
three woolen twists mark the passage
of careless walkers.
I expect to see them all winter through,
fading slowly, matting in the rain,
returning to their flocked origin.
Next Spring, a bird, more careful,
will pass through the bush,
avoiding thorns, gathering these
fleecy fragments for a new nest.
Black thorns, freed of the winter harvest,
will protect white blossom, shield new leaf.

(©1999 all rights retained by author)
Copyright 1998, 1999 PoetryRepairShop - Contemporary International Poetry; all rights reserved.

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