1.
Those were the dark days,
blue-pink Decembers, cold
fragrant moonlight, the smell
of sliced cucumbers- sky
thick, frozen honey.
2.
This was the year,
the arrival, the heresy
of winter, brown tongues
of weed- flower
paralyzed in deep snow.
3.
Now is the time we measure
departures,the span
of our fingers,the silence
of storms; frost between fingers
distorting the distance.
5.
White and lovely,
a cloak of death
spread over voices,
over snow-covered
blossoms.
6.
A season to describe
the start of winter, the end
of winter and everything
in-between- uncertain
flakes fall from cloud.
No comments:
Post a Comment