The Blurring

from this high ground
by the dead tree etched skeletal
a gentle snow crowding clouds 
peacefulness of a tree blessed with dove
hung like dark ornaments
sentries to me
stands out against all things
a tree for a christmas hymn
still unwritten
conceived in wind
if only this blurring
swept with snow
could see what I see
see its echoes
its far away tears
the affection of a snowflake
on a warm cheek
if I stood here forever
beauty could never escape me
and the earth ever her muted
her dull colors open before me
this would be enough for me to ever see
just some plain colors
for a plain man
wanting
for
nothing
waning
in his
muted
elations

jppestana january 6, 2017