It's closer to night
Even though it's ten A.M.;
All is gray, blue, dark.
Next to the ladder,
Leaning against the old barn,
A faded peace sign.
Glowing in the gloom
Against a background of snow--
A yellow lamp light.
My long gone neighbor
Tells me of her far journeys
Standing on this road.
The bends are darker;
Their mysteries familiar
But always unknown.
Slipping down the hill--
Blue box slides along the snow;
(Trash recreation).
Dry brown dead leaves hang
Above a fallen tree trunk;
But their tree still lives.
A cluster of friends:
Bare trees lean towards each other
Whispering the snow.
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