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Simple Gifts
By Christine Payack (AKA Ms. Turtle)
The woods are unwrapped.
Brown, crinkly-leafed paper
scattered on the ground.
A forest full of simple gifts
revealed, unbound.
Summer nests bedecked like jewels
rest in branches bare.
Festive aromas waft and float
through fragrant forest air.
Wild whispered messages
of frozen tracks and scat.
Mosaic mosses coat the ground
in softly frosted mats.
Ferns unfurl in stillness.
Leafy lime lichen
clinging to bark.
Cracked coats of crust
encase ancient rock.
Chords of cold streams
escort the silence
and cradle a nursery below.
Stone walls wander
while telling tales
of lives lived long ago.
Mixed winter flocks flit
in twittering flight.
Long shadows fall and shape these gifts
in velvet evening light.
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