i
When
it snows in the woods
And
I am there
To
witness
The
ice
As
I am privileged to watch it
Seal
the pond
Soft
Against
the grass
Outlining
leafless branches
Voice
If
I might still say voicing
Winter
song
Die
Winterreisse
In
a tone that was both gentle
And
intended
To
carry
The
sound of snowflakes
As
they fall against the world
Soft
Into
the night
I
witness a thrush calling
Repeating
and repeating
This
not
Light.
ii.
It
is seven and the stars
All
of the stars are shining
No
cloud to speak of
As
the world wakes.
No
clouds only patterns
Instruments
of light
Before
we speak or
As
day breaks.
Before
all the singing
It
is the song of the stars
Each
of them open
To
a human voice
I
would have said watching
Even
while the snow melts
Not
yet quite gone
Present
tense.
iii.
We
feel now
The
future in the instant
There
are two of us and we are
Walking
this winter lane
Like
we haven’t seen
In
who knows how long we remember
The
land laid out
Only
words remain.
We
don’t pray but
Across
the valley
We
hear the call to prayer
The
need at least as it is spoken
To
observe the hours
Vigil
to mark the day
And
as the light comes matins
Yellow
against the gorse
As
snow stays
As
we watch each step
Zwischen
den Jahren
Where
the quietness is a promise
On
the world’s terms
Who
walk
Listening
we think
To
the year’s silence
This
most complex of emotions
Darkness
Turns.
iv.
And
while you draw
I
put words to things
Like
I might offer
Or
as if I would only name them
These
things would stay
Like
rhyme
Might
hold you in place
Or
as if a sound
Was
a charm
Held
over towards a future
Before
the ice
Breaks
Like
that painting by Camille Pissarro
The
Banks of the Marne in Winter
Not
picturesque
People
walking beside a line of trees
The
scale held down
Uninterrupted
by any majestic elements
Like
a draughtsman
In
the landscape
Delineating
human intervals
A
couple of people
Making
their way
Pictured
in the act of composition
And
the painting doesn’t tell us
But
there might be snow
Just
not yet
Only
buildings as a principle of arrangement
Likened
to one another
As
echoes
Hold.
David Herd [photo credit: Sarah Hickson] is the author of numerous books of poetry and prose. His most recent collection, Walk Song (2022), was a Book of the Year in the Australian Book Review and his forthcoming collection, As If It Was Possible This Morning, will be published by Shearsman later this year. He has given readings in Europe, North America, India and Australia, and has held fellowships at George Mason University, Simon Fraser University and the Writing Center, Gloucester, Massachusetts. His critical history, Writing Against Expulsion in the Post-war World: Making Space for the Human was shortlisted for the 2024 MSA Book Prize. He is Professor of Literature and Human Rights at the University of St Andrews and co-organiser of the project Refugee Tales.