by Ed Higgins
today there are definite signs:
grey sky and clouds
their core dark as sorrow
torrent rain driven aslant
against the barn’s side
the late November creek
furious with swollen water
another v of geese
over the farm this morning
the plowed field soggy underfoot
fixed on distant May
a hawk hung in icy air
like a narrow winged thought—
I have crossed winter before,
and even in these days find song
photo credit: Rolf Hecken, Unsplash
Farmer-ish 