Wednesday, January 11, 2012

The Snow Never Tires Of Falling \ Winter Night

Nancy:  There are days when the snow falls so quietly that it becomes hypnotic.  There’s nothing to do but give up, lie down, fall asleep.
The Snow Never Tires Of Falling
the sky is white and
the trees where the sky has fallen
are white and the roses are white stems
wound through a white fence
and the quilt I pull over myself
is white with blue flowers
I am so sleepy
somewhere in the white trees
the birds are sleeping, the bear
in her white mound is sleeping
and the dogs too, lying at my feet
and by my side, are drowsy, drowsy
we are breathing slowly
the sky has forgotten every color
but white, we are letting it fall
winter is so long
my quilt has blue flowers
I am so sleepy
Alan:  Here's something  I’ve seen many times on the coldest, crispest, brightest nights of mid-winter.  It’s when I want to walk into the woods and rise up, myself, like the trees.
Winter Night
The trees stand up from themselves in light.
No doubt someone will explain this –
but the trees stand up from themselves in cold fire.
No doubt science can tell me the hows and whys,
but I know these sharp-tipped spruces,
and what they put up with,
waiting for nights like this – snow and moonlight –
to stand ghostly above themselves,
a second forest risen from the first.

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