Every evening as day departs
the sky reveals a secret
about the passage of time.
A walk in the woods
by the light of the moon
The moment is caught in midstream
like the oak leaf
frozen in time.
The deeper the blue,
the colder the cold.
In the winter days darkness comes long before night.
It can seem the sun shines only in the distance
while the cold grabs on tight as a tick.
Miles of the great silver rock
have been cut to create the corridor
into and through the Northeast Kingdom.
Fluff the nest and tuck your beak beneath your wing.
Winter has arrived. It is sitting on our perch, dear.