"Winter Song" Winter whimpers softly when it dies. Weak ice gives and surfaces decay. Warm winds want to wring the soil dry, but the wet gray rot will not go away. The rabbit limped across the shallow meadow. The dog was hungry. The grass was red. Over frozen earth, you say to tread slow. Our muddy feet means winter hasn’t fled. Your fingers limped across my shivering skin. The shaded trees know some disease between us. Late snow stifles what trembling birds begin. Spring would not come as soon as she had seen us. Your fingers threshed the oil from my hair. Winter left but wouldn’t tell me where. Daniel Zhang ’22 is the recipient of a Lewis Sibley Poetry Prize, given annually to students with the most promising collection of original poems. Editor’s Note: this writing originally appeared in the summer 2022 issue of The Exeter Bulletin
Winter whimpers softly when it dies. Weak ice gives and surfaces decay. Warm winds want to wring the soil dry, but the wet gray rot will not go away. The rabbit limped across the shallow meadow. The dog was hungry. The grass was red. Over frozen earth, you say to tread slow. Our muddy feet means winter hasn’t fled. Your fingers limped across my shivering skin. The shaded trees know some disease between us. Late snow stifles what trembling birds begin. Spring would not come as soon as she had seen us. Your fingers threshed the oil from my hair. Winter left but wouldn’t tell me where. Daniel Zhang ’22 is the recipient of a Lewis Sibley Poetry Prize, given annually to students with the most promising collection of original poems. Editor’s Note: this writing originally appeared in the summer 2022 issue of The Exeter Bulletin