bluster in poetry

the snow cuts in all ways
making scrambled eggs of highways
covering up the old things
that they may lie in wait for a while
but only for a little while

we will be reborn
but it will take time
we will be reborn
but we have to be buried first
we will be reborn
when there’s sun again for making hay
we will be reborn
if we don’t die a second time along the way

the snow makes everything
treacherous and beautiful
hides everything that we want hidden
hides everything we don’t want hidden
the snow hides everything
but it doesn’t hide a thing
forever

the rest is up
to time and us

Last updated December 11, 2014