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Wintry (a guided missal)

 Winter settled in, conglomerate. Grape leaves browned expertly to the end . A constitution settled facts, a moment of frisson. You recognized the imminence of laying low. Lower still in a cold field. Transitory streams turn breathless, the imagination absconds. Did you expect all death, sweeping plenty, or just possibilities of loss. Youth is impossible. Crows stack upon cold winds, culling flight from the air. Exemplars fade into forensic duty. Such words have never before been possible. A poem on these rocky shores seems, just seems. Attitude towards the sun marks solstice, even so. And this is as quiet as you can become, listening as always. Now recognize day as a simple patch.


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