As new as babes, as old as time,
A storm of small transparencies,
Insistent as a whispered word,
The silent night envelops me.
Beside the way the Panzers lie,
Hubris entombed by nature’s toll,
While snowflakes fall as soft as ash,
Pale remnants of departed souls.
Within the forest moose and lynx,
Furred partisans of hoof and claw,
Rejoice a mother’s victory,
A promise deep of water’s thaw.
In faintest starlight, crystal-caught,
I navigate by memory
The winking blue of winter’s night
To hearthside and humanity.
For Dusty Craig, who doesn’t do poetry.