Crisply the bright snow whispered, <br />Crunching beneath our feet; <br />Behind us as we walked along the parkway, <br />Our shadows danced, <br />Fantastic shapes in vivid blue. <br />Across the lake the skaters <br />Flew to and fro, <br />With sharp turns weaving <br />A frail invisible net. <br />In ecstacy the earth <br />Drank the silver sunlight; <br />In ecstacy the skaters <br />Drank the wine of speed; <br />In ecstacy we laughed <br />Drinking the wine of love. <br />Had not the music of our joy <br />Sounded its highest note? <br />But no, <br />For suddenly, with lifted eyes you said, <br />"Oh look!" <br />There, on the black bough of a snow flecked maple, <br />Fearless and gay as our love, <br />A bluejay cocked his crest! <br />Oh who can tell the range of joy <br />Or set the bounds of beauty?<br /><br />Sara Teasdale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-winter-bluejay/
