fade with the strengthening light.
Still shaken by dreams
he rolls up the blinds
and lets in the fields;
Yes, death will come—
he feels it closer of late—
but not today.
Today he opens a window
and leans out to listen to the crows
echoing thaw on the hill.
Today he hears a richer moan
of wind in budding crowns—
so much water lifting in the trees.
Today he feels, in such power,
the nearness of the sun.
