Friday, March 7, 2025

when all is quiet in late winter

can i not find the words or the woman 

who writes under winter stars? 

barren lies the fields cold the comfort 

no tea served to crows or crocus 

no pause under bare white birch 

as the wind whips up space & forgiveness 

come sun 

come waken the reach the sugarcane wildness 

come woman 

come words 

reach me here wrapped in these melancholy drifts


come....