Midwest January

We are in the unlovely time of year
When there is only the sooty swabbing of skies
And grimy mounds of snow slump
Against the sandy salted streets
And old men murder their old wives
One smothers her in a sagging stained sofa
Another fills her with a twelve-gauge load
Of double-aught buckshot
And no one notices the shadowy trees
Trembling like Our Lady of Guadalupe
Coruscated in a pre-dawn frozen fog

Evensong

I will cross
This bridge as
I have so many
Times before knowing
I will be changed
In the crossing
Leaving this place
I love again
My life suspended
Once more this
Time by choice
This time
My choice
Knowing I will
Look back and
See it all displayed
Before me the then
The now the maybe
Someday accepting I
Will retrace my steps
Come back to you
As I am meant to
Do I love these
Scars you offer me
Though I am left
Chapped and raw
Still they remind me
Even after they fade
Into my skin you wait
For me you will always
Wait for me to return
And leave you again.

snow rises into trees
horse chuffs for dying grasses
between us a fence