Thursday, January 5, 2012

January



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.


by John Updike

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Brrrrrr

The Rams Horn

The Rams Horn on Facebook