Thaw

by Ralph Gustafson (1909 – 1995)

Procrastination fumbles
Every frond
Of forest-snow; across
The frozen pond

The plane of sunlight scrapes
Concealment thin,
On north-banks cuts away
Each ravelin.

The tooth of April chumbles
In the mud,
Razing history where
A footstep stood;

The crusted runnels sag
Beneath the weight
Of sun; the brittle drifts
Disintegrate.

Abrupt, the cables of
The landscape lapse,
The hidden girders of
The frost collapse

And like a blast of gold,
A clarion,
A thousand startled waters
Take the sun.