The machinery of grace is always simple
Snow on the roof
The effortless gadgetry of love
Even before I've left I long for this place
Only by moving do we balance
"Missing you already"
I walk with ladies who throw stones
He was walking where he knew it was safe
So much agility. desire and feverish care
Blown downward to the dark
Where the old man was run down
daisies, cowpats
The frost is touching everything before the sun
Like old photographs
by dusk, a clearing
Each shadow sticks
Like a freshly cleaned bathroom,
The whine of distant bandsaws, the creak of dying trees
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