Reflections on a Winter Window

Reflections on a Winter Window

I stand before the glass- a shocking sight,

too white, too big in stocking cap and coat

and glasses, too. Is this the girl who wrote:

I'm God's frail angel, trembling toward the light?

I could not be this woman in the pane -

What would she know of trembling heavenly bliss?

If I'd known back when that I would look like this

I'da put a bullet in my trembling brain

And missed the snow upon the redbud tree.

And missed the sleeping spaniel's velvet ear.

And missed the graceful green frivolity

that rises at the turning of each year.

For though this flesh may less than sold be

I thank it for the love it's shown me here.