HOME | DD

Description
Silent, not even the twitter of insects.
The wind still against a distant sky of clouds.
The cold is gray and fierce,
Bitter as a widow at the grave.
The trees' bare bony fingers
Point crookedly toward Heaven or Hell,
Or worse, toward nowhere.
Winter days
Wear long as the ocean shore
Governed by a God
Harsher than windstorm hail
And more punishing than the waves
That break ships in two.
There are rules to follow here,
One righteous path
Trashed down through the woods.