Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Winter Storm

It speaks to me in sounds
I didn't know I knew
A wounded moose
Ancient radio crackles
News from long ago
Train wheels grind frozen rails
An eagle screams
A drop of well-deep quiet
A thousand hands rub
Together to keep warm
An old man rocks and hums
Deep in his chest

Weary house answers
Windows whistle
Bones grumble and groan
Every door grunts
Against the winter storm
Pipes clang
Furnace harrumphs, then heaves
Bits of plaster surrender
And spit pieces to the floor