Winter Reflections

by Richard Moore
Through this smooth new snow-made world
flaps the jackdaw
on big black blanket wings looking,
appears on the field’s black branch,
shakes down snow,
humps to a dot, and is gone there.
Through this frail white silence
black flows the stream
trickling,
into which clumps of snow, pushed, fall
and in lucid darkness become
ghosts.