January 11, 12

*
Among trees, 
standing waters
gray with ice, 
edges laced white.
Crows gathering at twilight.
Moonlight 
on 
snow. 

Winter

Face to the wind.
There are beauties
that freeze 
the heart.


*
At last, 
all we confirm
are our fears--
bundled against the blue ice
of these clear skies.

(if

(what can compromise
one who
has no shame?))
I dream of summer.