Under Winter’s Wings and Other Poems

by Sheila Dougal

UNDER WINTER’S WINGS
after Gerald Manley Hopkins

Not because 

Death came, is the 

Freeze holy. 

But an icy ghost 

Has passed over, 

Sacrificing the 

Leafy green; bent

Toward the world. 

In dying broods 

Over earth with 

Layers warm.

Blankets the breast 

Of tender soil and 

Sheltered fruit with 

Repentance, ah! 

Turning back bright 

Under winter’s wings.

CONSIDER THE SNOW PEA

Consider the snow pea,

How it transforms so quickly

Once buried,

Such a tough kernel

Raised to arms and curls 

And fancy white florals,

Like ladies in hats on Sunday.

How it ascends the trellis,

Winding its feelers round 

Like a newborn’s grip on her mother’s fingertip.

How it dangles its pods full and green

Like decor—as though it needed more.

And how easily, how freely, we snap

A snack from its vines while we

Cover the fallow ground with things 

Fallen from the freeze.

GARDENER GOD

Gardener God, 

On your knees,

Bent at the hips

Like a servant, 

Leaning in with

Life breath 

Close to death.

Scarred hands

Press the seed, 

Buried.

Inhaling the mist 

Of humus and clay,

You cover the place

You laid 

A grain 

of wheat.

SHEILA DOUGAL

Sheila is a blue-collar poet, gardener, soap-maker, and nurse raising backyard chickens and goats in the rural low deserts of Arizona with her husband. Her poetry and essays can be found in various print and online publications. You can also find her at Substack at @plantedlife, Instagram @sheiladougal and Facebook @SheilaDougal.