A Bit of Henry Bugbee

Great bit of Bugbee from Ed Mooney’s blog.

Mists on the Riverss

Tuesday, January 15, 1963

 

No wind stirs.

At Zero Fahrenheit the flakes of snow are not at all large.

Incredibly lightly and unwaveringly they fall.

A myriad of them  fills our meadow round the house.

One sees them best looking at the trees beyond.

Their falling accentuates the still-standing trees, the dark trunks.

And the still of the trees is the nearness of  falling snow.

Occasiona11y, in the meadow, a weed nods and lifts again.

The low fire on the hearth is even more discreet.

 

Henry Bugbee, A Way of Reading the Book of Job

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