Notes For Writing A Poem in Winter

The season begins when
autumn’s thunder whimpers away through dead leaves.

Pull the curtains over the window;
the glass is bloody with winter.

Bolt the door against the quiet snow
so it cannot enter unnoticed.

Ignore the muffled cries of trees dressed in ice
trying to bargain you to some other place.

Here is the only place you can know.

Look for images in the mirror.
If they cast shadows
you can trust them.

Go to empty shoes in the closet for a rhythm.
For your purpose the wind outside
is an unmeasured corpse in the streets.

The best lines have been waiting
in the surface of your desk.
Carefully talk them out of the wood.

Your poem will form rings in the air as it grows.
Count them.
It is already older than you are.

The poem will want to see winter.
You must let it go.

There is life enough in this room
between your own breath and the breathing of your heart –
that dark animal moving slowly inside you.

Do not follow when it leaves.


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