Judith Kelly Quaempts

Orchardist
 
Hard frost underfoot
Cold stars overhead.
Without conscience the moon
shines down on row after row
of silvering branches.
 
She hears the snap and pop
as her trees lifeblood freezes.
 
Still she dares to hope.
 
Hope answers.
The moon clouds over.
The trees grow still.
A puff of wind, and
sweet miracle...
soft flakes begin to fall.
 
Arms outstretched she lifts
her face to the cool embrace
of snow.
 
She picks up her lantern.
and heads for home.
In passing, she touches
each trunk, gently,
as though touching
the face of a child.

Judith Kelly Quaempts' poetry and short stories appear online and in print. Her most recent poetry appears in Young Ravens Literary Review, Persimmon Tree’s West Coast states poetry contest issue, and an anthology from The Poetry Box.