Into the Winter Clad & Other Poems

By Tom Merrill

Into the Winter Clad

Into the winter clad the great
And lovely pinetrees go;
When all that made them sing has flown,
Some meet the season so.

No numb display for ones they held
When arms were filled with feather;
But maples strip themselves and wait
The balm of bitter weather.

Bagatelle I

"Man hands on misery to man. It deepens like a coastal shelf." ― P.L.

If brute nature's too strong for arresting
in its drive to keep planting new seed
the result so cries out for protesting
no lost cause seems more worthy to plead.

It concerns those at risk of induction
into ills we all suffer and mourn
and the facing of grief and destruction
for no reason but having been born.

It commends sparing others diseases
and anger and fear and despair
and such mercies as flow from sweet Jesus
and the hopelessness driving all prayer.

Unwithered

Unwithered by all casting out
My demon drives me yet
Down the dark path that always ends
In sorrow and regret,

And leaves me to repent again
My neverending part
In injuring a perfect love,
And breaking my own heart.

Tom Merrill is a poet, painter and photographer who prefers to let his words, paintings and photographs speak for themselves. His latest book, Time in Eternity, can be purchased from Ancient Cypress Press by clicking the hyperlinked book title. In the past he published as T. Merrill.