What will it take to love you.
Beside the river, a white hood
of snow is draped on the dark gray rocks.
It melts in the afternoon sun.
What does this have to do with love.
I watch the snow as it disappears.
Even after ten minutes, it is too slow a process
to notice anything has changed.
What is there to say. There is
cold. There is warmth. There is
melting. And thirst. Beside me, an ouzel
bobs and bathes in the cold, cold waves.
You just don’t see the ouzel appear in many poems these days:>)
I like the white hood image.