In the trees:
the roar of hard winds

The pain
of sharp snow
abrading faces

The heavy pressure
of the wind on the core ice
forcing the deep resonance
of church bells
out of the lake

In the poor visibility of whipping snow:
round silhouettes of distant islets:
giant turtles

Each day
a summit
where we stand,
making ourselves (mis)understood,
feeling the body push past,
hitting on something big,
taking for granted,
feeling the ground move

The nights
unfailing exceptions
from the rule;
the reward of sleep
for the toil of wakefulness;
the ludicrous list of demands
exposed & scattered;
phraseological symbol values
steaming
from cracked Pandora boxes,
silences voiced
against a backdrop
of climbing Sysifosian screes
and crowds of tempted fare-the-wells:


wind
trees
whipping snow


FACE

core ice
resonance

church bells

LAKE

CORE ICE

islets
silhouettes

whipping snow