January’s a Lake of Ice
January’s a lake of ice in suburb’s blur
The autos grumble east and west
Nothing stirs from in the nest
Each in a bubble laid to rest
The people next door are dead for all I know
Dead these several weeks dead beneath the snow
In backyards icy with hard smooth snow
There’s not a living face to show
For all these chimneys row on row
The dark is light because the earth is white
The streets are still save crack of tire on ice
The bare trees pine against a vacant sky
No human eye no human cry
To tell where all the life has gone
Or been or if it’s still within
This calm’s all wrong all winter long
This gravelike residential balm
This crusty cold around the fold
That lets no controversy sprout
No way to say what living’s been about
No sign of goodness or of sin
The ice is thin the ice is thin
ca. ‘75, rev. 2005
Copyright 1975, 2005 by Maurice Leiter
Posted with permission.
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