Archive
11/19/08 - (3)
Intimations of Winter
I can see, I can smell, I can hear, I can taste, I can touch Winter edging, inexorably, Toward the outer reaches of my innermost extremities.
Is what I'm sensing an impending limbo, A nowhere everywhere, Or, instead, an overwhelming somewhere about to possess me?
I'm rolling up summer and fall, carrying them under my arms, Entering immensities of white solitude, Retiring into blessed quiescence,
Surrendering my soul, to a hundred days of hibernation, Holing up in my cave — a cabin on a northern lake — So that snow and cold won't freeze my imagination.
11/19/08 - (3)
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