Winter Bones

I just returned from a wintery morning walk in the falling snow and received this beautiful poem from a friend over email. It was timely and I felt it today, “the cold grey falls from the air” death lurking in the starkness of the trees. Where is that spark of life? The light is dim now and there is no where to turn but in. So I go in and in until there is no more in to go, only a standstill. Patiently I wait like I might wait for my lover to come home from a long journey. There’s a trembling excitement in the longing to feel the warmth again, life, to know you, new again. And as the cold flows through my bones I rest in the dark dome of winter, the stark, emptiness of my own being and hers and I love what I am.

Thank you for the inspiration at this mid point between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox.

Lines for Winter


for Ros Krauss

Tell yourself
as it gets cold and gray falls from the air
that you will go on
walking, hearing
the same tune no matter where
you find yourself—
inside the dome of dark
or under the cracking white
of the moon’s gaze in a valley of snow.
Tonight as it gets cold
tell yourself
what you know which is nothing
but the tune your bones play
as you keep going. And you will be able
for once to lie down under the small fire
of winter stars.
And if it happens that you cannot
go on or turn back
and you find yourself
where you will be at the end,
tell yourself
in that final flowing of cold through your limbs
that you love what you are
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