Today's word is "poultice" ... A soft moist mass of cloth, herbs, etc. applied hot like a medicaments to the body.
Under
The lake is frozen ...
little mounds of snow scatter
recklessly across its surface and
wild wind crys it's outrage as it
looks for open doors to infiltrate.
Icicles drip into predetermined
shape. The earth creaks underfoot.
Fingers and cheeks turn red,
and beg for a poultice's warmth.
Birds hop on top a fragile crust
barely able to support their weight.
But this forlorn lanscape hides a secret.
Beneath the snow, life is waiting
for the signal that will release
it into spring. But not yet.
Not yet.
Anne Selleck
Copyright 2013
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