The bark came off the trunks before the leaves had dropped—
the freeze sped up, the shade enlarged, the birdsong stopped.

No forest hiss survived, no human sound, no sigh—
it was to be the dullest place below the sky.

From dens and hides small eyes kept watching out for light,
afraid of all the time they had to spend on site.

At last the white dress fell to make the earth a bride—
observers still and silent, long asleep inside.

A feeble glow from through the clouds the only sign—
the dark of shade the only landmark to align.

Bare trees will wait according to their inner clock,
and birds will sing again when sunrays free the rock.


Alessio Zanelli is an Italian poet who writes in English and whose work has appeared in about 150 journals from 13 countries. He has published 4 full collections to date, most recently Over Misty Plains (Indigo Dreams, UK, 2012).

Related Post

‘Saint Agnes’ by Bruce Wren   This evening of your festive day I pray _Oh Agnes, little model of the pure, _Oh girl with smiling eyes, and faith so sure: They won for ...

4 Responses

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.