Hardly touchable. What they say
about cold things- marble or
the emotionally wounded.
How does winter burn the soul?
I bought a house, hardly liveable.
A sad dog showed up on the porch
missing an eye. He seemed to ask
"does anyone live here?"
We waited, the one-eyed dog
by the door, me by the fire, the night
with its pensive dreams and fantasies
of summer. The truth is
not much has changed from
one year to the other. Maybe
God is sleeping, maybe dogs
only need one eye and I
will never need to touch
anything more startling.