Winter Words
- Terry Hodgson
- Oct 18, 2023
- 1 min read
for Samuel Taylor Coleridge and William Wordsworth
The echoes of a gift thought lost
haunt the approach of age
as a forgotten page ensures
a waste of waking hour.
Sometimes plenitude, however,
roots recurrent pain
like a winter shower
and therefrom springs again
a hidden phrase from soil
long parched, a sudden
rhythm out of season,
which springs from trodden grass
like a moment of invention
at a chink upon a glass.
©Terry Hodgson2023
Comments