Of Coming Light

Just above the dark spreading form
of the cottonwood tree,
a quarter moon bleeds through
the thin drifting clouds.

Splotches of snow seem to glow
in the slight light
of moon and morning.

Yesterday’s warming melted most
of the thin places
and we thought there would be rain,
but the night’s lowering cold
refroze the surface
of the lingering drifts.

My boots barely crunch the crust
as I make my way
toward hay and horses,
north wind at my back.

In this drought and chill
it is easy to think of lacks
and a longing for warm rains,
but there is still hay for the rack,
and I have good boots
and a heavy jacket.

And all that I need
of daily bread.

H. Arnett

About Doc Arnett

Native of southwestern Kentucky currently living in Ark City, Kansas, with my wife of twenty-nine years, Randa. We have, between us, eight children and twenty-eight grandkids. We enjoy singing, worship, remodeling and travel.
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