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09 February 2014

Birches Brush the Winter Sky, Missoula, Montana

"Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow crust--
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen."


- From "Birches" by Robert Frost

Read further thoughts on this poem here.

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