Elizabeth Raby

This morning the hummingbird
tongues its way through ice
at the feeder’s one snow-free opening

Daffodil blooms,
frozen translucent,
lie flat in despair

Around yesterday’s white
clusters of apricot blossoms,
today’s clumps of wet snow

But the sun is bright,
the sky is blue, steam clouds
rise from the bird bath’s

mushy ice, junipers stand up,
branches released one by one
from the night’s white burden