Wistful in winter

Fresh Pond, in Cambridge, Mass.

"I  spoke to you that last winter morning
Watching the wind smoke snow across the ice
Told of how the beauty of your spirit, flesh, 
And smile had made day break at night and spring
Burst beauty in the wasting winter's place. 

You did not answer when I spoke, but stood
As if that wistful part of you, your sorrow, 
Were blown about in fitful winds below; 
Your eyes replied your worn heart wished it could
Again be white and silent as the snow. ''

-- From "Two Seasons,'' by the late Galway Kinnell, the famed Sheffield, Vt.-based poet.