Winter; Rainstick

With his back to the wind He watches the snow rise, Fall, swirl, accumulate at His feet firmly cushioned To the beach, sternly sunk By the boatyard brambles.

Hood up, Stars clouded, He sparks a fire, Its flames rise higher/ Ash sloughs off like moths into the night's blues and whites/ He Listens To the spiking Trickle of snow pebbles Percussing the Bone dry, Porous Bark Of A

Leafless Maple/

(Not lifeless, Though, just as incapable)

It's Limbs Extend As if in Prayer, As if in Pleasure, As if at peace/ A delicate trunk, A scurry of claws, A snapping stick/the Yard is thick with life (Burrowed in the below- Zero flow of snow)/ Melting on his Face/ a cry 4 Absolution Rings hot With the Fleeing Crows/ With The _Sin-_ gle Gun- shot/ On its Hallowed Road of echoes