At the winter's midnight
we went to the trees, the coarse
holly, the balsam and
the hemlock for their green
...
Green is a solace
a promise of peace, a fort
against the cold (though we
did not say so) a challenge
above the snow's
hard shell. Green (we might
have said) that, where
small birds hide and dodge
and lift their plaintive
rallying cries, blocks for them
and knocks down
the unseeing bullets of
the storm. Green spruce boughs
pulled down by a weight of
snow—Transformed!
from William Carlos Williams'
"Burning the Christmas Greens"
*
To hear Williams reading the entire poem, click here.
*
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