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Looking from his bedroom window
I see that snow has fallen in the night,
dusting the high cranberry bush,
now grown tall as the eaves of the old red house.
It is October, and the impatient flakes,
not willing to wait until their time,
have dressed each crimson berry
in a white crystalline bonnet -
a rare still life
framed by the frost-edged window.
As I savor the beauty of it all
I find myself thinking of his late wife.
Did she ever look out this window at such a sight;
did she ever get to see the cranberries in snow?
Did they help to warm her spirits - or cool her cancer pain?
The morning sun begins to warm the berries,
and as the snow melts from each one,
I come to realize
that the more I know him,
the more I am drawn to her.
Then suddenly I sense
that there are three of us in the room -
and I smile.
-J. Snow Duncanson
The Monadnock Ledger-Transcript
Peter E. Randall Publisher
New Hampshire Writers Project
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