Winter rules
Winter’s come and done a number on this town.
Trams like syrup trail across the tundra streets.
The trees, like frozen spider webs,
now dream of forest fires.
All is lack of moment, lack of sound.
The ice-spread sky and frozen clouds are still;
no birds   (not even snow)
now flying   (falling).
All is cold and all is ice-God grave
and yet, there are some slow fires burning.
Winter rules but does not rule my heart
or watchful, hungry eyes.
There is still warmth: a murmur in my blood -
and taking gliding, careful steps
I move from here to there
and always back to you.