We watched outside your bedroom window three gray doves sleep among the gray branches of walnut trees which reached across our view before the new-grass green and the blue-sky blue At sunrise, you woke me to see through the branches a level bar of light as it cut through the cloud and I was too sleepy to see as you tell me the articulate black of every branch the light glowing from their other sides and the frost sparkling green in the grass
31 January 1979