Freeze and thaw, snow and rain, the month of lions and lambs is upon us. From the still dormant orchard, last year’s leftover leaves rattle in the wind; while from the waking wetlands, this year’s redwings flirt and trill. Welcome, March, month of stirring contradictions, you bring us much to savor, mourn, and contemplate.

Plein Air Meditation

By Hilary Sallick

Water falls from the eaves of the hut

I stop and listen Walking here

I was making new paths

through snow

stepping up and out

and then as if wearing high heels

finding myself suddenly taller

on the frozen crust

The snow is hard and soft melting now

dripping landing noisily

The birds are calling redwing chickadee crow

I’ve turned off my phone

and fall silent into inner

silence the ground where the forest

stands so many trees leaning against

one another entangled branches and roots

I found a twig of the oak

caught by the pine

Now cold on the rising wind

last year’s leaves dangle musical

Hilary Sallick, a poet and teacher in Somerville, MA, is the author of a full-length poetry collection, Asking the Form (Cervena Barva Press, 2020). She is also vice-president of the New England Poetry Club. Her poem, “Plein Air Meditation,” first appeared in Old Frog Pond & Studio’s 2018 Plein Air Poetry chapbook, Paths Tracks Trails. To read more of her work, go to www.hilarysallick.com.