THE GIFT

You had to be there when it happened.
It will never be again.
There will probably be similar times
but it will never be the same.
It was Tuesday, the first week of April,
blue sky and bright sunshine.
My friend Bon and I were headed out
to look for spring and dine,
to celebrate my birthday
and discuss things on our minds.
It was about mid-morning,
I think near half-past nine
when we crested the long hill
that bent 'round toward the left
and what we saw was awesome,
no mind conceived or guessed
anything could be so glorious,
so heaven-like to see.
She braked the car and we just stared,
awestruck, in disbelief.
Before us was a whole wood stand
of pure white birch trees
touched by termination snow,
giant, lacey flakes that fell last night
and clung to the limbs like giant bows
and that white on white in morning sun,
oh how the birch woods glowed!
It sparkled and it shimmered
in platinum, silver and gold...
But that was not the sum of it,
’twas more to behold
as we caught our breath in wonder,
two new born fawn and doe
emerged out of the shining,
crossed right in front of us,
crossed the road to the pines
that were nearly just a beautiful
in their crowns of snowy white.
If ever was a birthday gift,
this was a gift of wondrous sight,
an awesome natural treasure,
one of breathless delight.
You really had to be there
at exactly the right time
to catch the doe and the two fawn
and that degree of shine.
It seems God sent a special gift
the year I turned forty-nine.
Oh, we found our pussy-willows
down along the railroad line
and we had a lovely birthday lunch
at Raspberries and Thyme
and wandered once again the streets
we'd known in childhood times,
though almost all we talked about
was birches, deer and shine.
We almost didn't go at all
but we did and didn't miss
the glory found in early spring.
Oh, what a birthday gift.

Annette Bromley