Yahara Winter

"The old snow gets up and moves its
Birds with it

The beasts hide in the knitted walls..."

– W.S. Merwin, "December Among the Vanished"








But then there always was the short drive
along riverside
where it did not matter the condition
of the old houseguests
across the street
where I knew the crows roamed the rooftops
and the old man wore his mechanics suit to shovel
because I saw
the bridges
I saw the lace like sheets of ice
bulb out out at narrows
and neighbors
young and old
hunch over the rocky crown of that bridge
and it felt a home
what are we looking for?
we have the water
a school outlets
and students come walking over
the steps
and I see
what it is for always has been