Mid-Winter's Night

My heart is empty and bleak
On this winter's night deep
Re-sculptured by the snows' hands
Turning everything outside marble.

Each line and sound I hear clear
Turns this way and that, echoing
To the point I can't find,
The careful placement of the rhyme

The whisper of snows' soft kiss,
Calms me and presses me on
To pen the words nonetheless
And later sculpture them to worth.

5 March 2004

Dave