In the January Wind


Pine trees never break in the January wind, instead bending

in their quiet resistance, and yet yielding

creating a stronger hope, they still hold on

to our prayers

even in the fury and wildness

of the January wind.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies


In His Reflection by the Creek


Snow and ice crunching under his boots, and a strange gray reflection

rippling across the creek, with deer tracks on the other side.

He paused, zipping up his coat a little further,

watching the trees bend.

He remembered traveling through time

hunting for visions with bows

wearing buckskin

and an occasional feather,

but it was long ago

on horseback,

so instead, in his reflection

by the creek,

he took some pictures.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies