A Forest Path in Winter

Gustaf Fjaestad

A Forest Path in Winter

Along this secret and forgotten road

All depths and forest forms, above, below,

Are plumed and draped and hillocked with the snow

A branch cracks now and then, and its soft load

Drifts by me in a thin prismatic shower;

Else not a sound, but vistas bound and crossed

With sheeted gleams and sharp blue shadows, frost,

And utter silence. In his glittering power

The master of mid-winter reveries 

Holds all things buried soft and strong and deep.

The busy squirrel has his hidden lair;

And even the spirits of the stalwart trees

Have crept into their utmost roots, and there,

Upcoiled in the close earth, lie fast asleep.

Archibald Lampman

Lampman has a gift for writing nature poems, especially poems about snow. There are so many to choose from. And Gustaf Fjaestad has a gift for snow paintings - again, we're spoiled for choice. This poem and painting both invoke that sense of the world being muted and insulated by snow. Lovely. (I like that word "upcoiled" as well.)