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.