06 February 2014

Winter Sun, Hamilton, Montana

January  by John Updike
The days are short
The sun a spark
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.

Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor
And parkas pile up
Near the door.

The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees’ black lace

The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.

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