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Sandy Lyne


Winter Art Absence Green


The green of summer
is absent now.
That doesn’t mean
the Artist left.
Bare trees against
a winter sky,
black twigs in snow,
are all that’s needed
for winter’s art.


An absence of green—
still, enough for winter’s art.
In the temple’s silence,
Snowflakes fall
in my steaming tea.


The wind is absent,
so still, the evergreens.
I shiver in the winter cold.
There must be an art
to staying still I do not know—
shivering, chattering,
in the winter cold.


© The Estate of Sandford Lyne



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