TO CAROLINA REDIVIVA

I see a glimpse of you,
O Carolina, my friend, behind the birch's frosty twigs,
quietest light falls on my road
like sun in mist.

Stern and distinguished
you are like one whom life has given a protecting armour,
but by a sceptical mildness's light
sprinkled over -

like an old man's
smile of light, light snow and autumn-gentle irony,
thoughtfully, with warmth and wisdom underneath
and inside meek humility.