February 2012
1 post
Poem for a Cold Walk Home
by Chris Ransick from Never Summer: Poems From Thin Air
If I told my story, you might doubt how high snow piled along the street, how smooth the ice lay all about
low places in a glassy sheet, green and black as dusk came down, late January freeze complete.
I measured steps, a little clown, with songs and jokes, the squirrels and birds the only audience around.
I think they knew the tunes and...