Spring Cycles

loading...
Daylight lengthens at last, And, nightly, the wrench and crash Of plates of ice resumes in the brook. Those ice sheets shatter and shift; Cold rivulets gurgle: The drift Of small streams riverward,…
Sign in or Subscribe to view this content.

Daylight lengthens at last,

And, nightly, the wrench and crash

Of plates of ice resumes in the brook.

Those ice sheets shatter and shift;

Cold rivulets gurgle: The drift

Of small streams riverward,

Rivers, seaward, all water hereabouts

Traveling east and south.

The Penobscot opens its mouth

At Searsport, there where the tankers

Haul in the liquid from underground.

Here, kerosene brightens the noisy night,

And there, the snow that fell into

Gordon Brook

Washes in waves against steel hulls.

David Wells Brainerd lives deep in the woods of Howland. His chapbooks of verse include “A Turn of the Wheel,” published in 2003, and “Under the Gold Sun,” published last year.


Have feedback? Want to know more? Send us ideas for follow-up stories.

comments for this post are closed

By continuing to use this site, you give your consent to our use of cookies for analytics, personalization and ads. Learn more.