Trees seem gaunt and lonely. They suddenly seem hungry, a good sign. Toward Evening, the light is kinder and departs a bit more softly. Snow has saturated skin. My lashes like branches of a willow drip down the gulley beneath my eye pieces of sky.
Winter wraps itself around wrists in the north.
Cuffings, shiney and silver sometimes with indecipherable lockings, cling to the fingers of freedom.