WINTER
I
Cold bones
bare as winter’s soil
Clenched jaw bone
teeth gnash against teeth
wondering streets
in search of a coat
to soften this icy curse
held in time, a naked
moment no deep
breath can satisfy
Stark trees hide no
embarrassment as they
reach out to touch
neighbors with whom they
share soil water and sunshine,
endure and even hold onto
each icy drop that falls
from the sky
Yesterday came around the
corner, and startled you,
in the middle of this
shivering mess, about to
use up your last match
in an attempt to light the
candle of remembrance
of deliverance
Prayer carried off by some
torrid gust extinguishing
the flame as penitence
You cry, not knowing that
flowers in spring sleep as seeds
in winter
II
Barns filled with hay
Round bales stacked two-high
Bibles on dashboards
Dusty trucks with no tailgates
Trees cover hillsides, impersonal
Passively waiting for signs of green
River makes a sharp turn
Inconspicuous, cows graze bare fields in the bottoms
More gray skies lie ahead
Threatening any cheerful sign of bird's return
Only this cemetery is not silent
One hundred-year-old corpses knocking
On graves, demanding to know
If spring has arrived
—Christy Korrow
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