Winter's Eve

Lost along the spidery cracks
in the sidewalk,
Pacing along the icy boulevards,
Crunching half-frozen
Lakes, or puddles to the
grizzled journeyman
Stumbling down the sidestreets
in muddy boots, broken
by the still night air
like ancient clay pots
As the silver stars beam
down from the ink black
heavens,
and the cool moon smiles
down at the fate of the
long-limbed angels
The traveller takes heart -
somewhere a warm fire,
strong drought, and soft lips wait for his return
If only in the dreams of a
Winter's Eve
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