Meditations in an Emergency
If I am ever to find these trees meaningful 
I must have you by the hand. As it is, they 
stretch dusty fingers into an obscure sky, 
and the snow looks up like a face dirtied 
with tears. Should I cry out and see what happens? 
There could only be a stranger wandering 
in this landscape, cold, unfortunate, himself 
frozen fast in wintry eyes.