Of the Forests

Of the forests
Tendons dark rooted
Drawing towards dusk,
Retreating in blue haze-

If there is little to say
Then they will not speak-

If there is little to speak
Then they cannot say-

The ground lies under,
Always-

As night turns to day.

Winter's Pain

In my parlour of Winter
Pianos never played
Black keys covered with clear ice
Hammers nuzzle still to space
Lonely in undrafted air
Each silent note
Keening, lovely-

Oh, even you, Winter,
Struggling to speak,
Wanting your answer!