After tossing and turning I cloak up
\nand step into the other larger room
\noutside, where frangible branches, glassy
\ngarage and garbage cans have been chisled
\nfrom the brittle substance of algid air.
\nI take the crusted foot path towards the light
\nbulb inadvertently left on, its fragile
\nfilament projecting a sallow cone
\nacross the desolation of the yard.
\nBut my boot crunch stays the mute implosion
\nof fir boughs and snow and the curtain swirls
\nof the aurora above, inertia
\nwith a smell of its own. My senses seize
\nthis scene sustained by sound from emptiness.<\/p>\n
*** *** After tossing and turning I cloak up and step into the other larger room outside, where frangible branches, glassy garage and garbage cans have been chisled from the brittle substance of algid air. I take the crusted foot path towards the light bulb inadvertently left on, its fragile filament projecting a sallow cone across the … <\/p>\n
\n<The Skin of Things<\/a><\/p>\n
\nThought I would publish this most wintery of my poems, since I am off to Winnipeg for a week, which starts with the<\/em>\u00a0vernissage\u00a0of\u00a0<\/em>Prairie Fire<\/a>\u00a036,4, wherein I propose\u00a0a few translations from the Franco-Manitoban poet\u00a0Paul Savoie<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n