Winter

The matter of winter

is to have cold hearts,

to see the white of life

where life terminates.

But as the days turn once more to spring,

the love I feel breaks down

and my heart goes to sleep

to find rest

on the joy of pale firebirds

and things to live again.

A morning cool,

Windows opened wide,

Let the eyebrows greet the earth.

Warmth to the pulse,

And love shall return,

to me.

• William Carlos Williams