Snow at Midnight
Half light, half dark,
the preening snow goose,
favorite of all
my late husband’s hunting trophies, presides
over my dark bedroom.
All week I’ve been watching the moon
swell. Now
in fullness it pours over the edge
of a skylight,
leaving one side of the white bird in sharp
shadow, the other side
ethereal in its glow.
As the earth turns, the moon will slowly
envelop
the whole bird n light, eventually leave a shadow
on the opposite side,
then, while I sleep, abandon it in total darkness.

