The predawn snow glows dull and dark, a snake
asleep against the bushes black with night,
tree skeletons, tall, twisted, bony shapes,
the sky a gray the opposite of light
a half tone lighter than the black. This is
an ancient time we feel deep in our bones
that have no memory of spring, the bliss
of warming sun. Our bones know we’re alone
with this, the dark and frozen time is here,
a nothingness come due, the slate wiped clean.
This is the reckoning, stripped down and clear,
the knuckled fact, the balanced beam.
Stay warm and understand. Stay close to fire.
This is the other side of all desire.
by Ed Hack
Editor’s Note: Chilling, clear imagery and perfect rhymes animate this sonnet beautifully. Maybe we should all stay inside the next time it snows, eh?
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