On January 4
the snow comes
and the old river valley whitens
and cleans itself pretty well
outside our south window
and to the east?
well, there is a tangle of branches all lined with snow
and two mustangs on a mountaintop in Montana
(must be all gone now: we met so long ago)
and John's silent wind chimes
he carried out of the woods in Vermont
in October
there is also a window looking west
where the woods meet the clearing
and all forest animals come and walk along the ridge when they want to
(which is not today)
I still cannot stride well
especially in the fresh snow
(says my new knee)
so we drive to look
and meet Zuzu and her son John
who talk
and even make words with their hands
they stand not far from a festive beech tree
and a ravine which gets deeper as we go on and on
and on to a transfer station
with our cans and jars
and a stage
is all set up
for old tired tires
and such
there are more snowy woods right around the bend
pretty, yes, very
but it is only January 4
and more snow ahead
we stop by a stand of common reed grasses with their shaggy plums
and nearby is a creek, frozen and snowed under
and a row of trees across the Ashokan Reservoir
( and by now I am sure you know what we are doing: just bumming around)
and yes, there are more trees
and a bridge spanning the Ashokan Reservoir
and even grapes dangling among the trees
But today
(it is much later)
all is done
and is very still
Yva
