from out of cleansing winter night

cold moonlight
reflects dark
still water
viscous calm
in appearance
laps the shore
like darkened blood
tall bony trees
against virgin
meadows clad white
where the ghosts
of summer stand
much lies dormant
beneath this hill
raw and sentient
inanimate but extant
latent energy
as molten waves
slow rolling motion
deeply buried
faint moaning
like the groan
preceding the quake
sitting still
the voices call
your restless soul
melting that
icy armament
darkened stream
washed away
from a body
now lain bare
pure again.

– Previously published 1992

winter stream

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