A Poem for the Winter Soltice

 clipped from www.poetryfoundation.org

The Dipper

by Kathleen Jamie 

It was winter, near freezing,   

I'd walked through a forest of firs   

when I saw issue out of the waterfall   

a solitary bird.   

It lit on a damp rock,   

and, as water swept stupidly on,   

wrung from its own throat   

supple, undammable song.   

It isn't mine to give.   

I can't coax this bird to my hand   

that knows the depth of the river   

yet sings of it on land.