Yes, I have held to the calm sterility of winter
    The peace that is near death
    Near nothing

    When the short days leave time
    For watching Orion
    On his silent stalk across the night

    When the frantic rush of life is hidden
    Just below the frost line
    In the patient dark

    Old bones carry the memory of earth
    But the flesh on them knows only motion
    Moving like always

    Toward the light it loves.

Copyright © Cy Dillon, 2002.  All Rights Reserved.