Grey Hair of Winter
Even her smallest pieces carry a stripped back emotional force, as in the quiet revelation of “Sunlight—an elusive God, completely hidden except inside a velvet heart.”
Grey hair of winter rests
on my body’s trees,
cold and pale spirit.
White halogen under bridges—
electric, cold.
A sheet of snow whispers along the highway,
Is it life
or the cold chariot that awaits me?
Sunlight—an elusive God,
hidden
inside a velvet heart.
The windshield fogs with rushing flakes—
none of them sticking,
all of them confused,
trying to connect
to a disappearing ground.