the cloak of dark grabs hold
the shroud over the eyes of light
here, in the deep freeze cold
here, in the dead of night
the direction of now
could be any which way
and we are not to know
until the light of day
and pitch black
the white snow is vacant
this winter lacks
the star of it's intent
and we wont know til the lights come up
what for so long we've wondered
here, in the early morning hours
of the first of december.

12/01/2002

Posted on 12/01/2002
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