February: Year-day 36

        
                                          
                                              
February: Year-day 36

Honesty in the sequin snow, the cold,
brings corn on a snowmobile to feed deer,
and trails the deer walk on, and care, to hold
what in season he'll kill.  Somewhere, in fear
andtrembling, sometime, I also may, bugged
too long by images out of my past--
we all have been--to avoid being hugged
by the one with whom love will deepest last.

What love I give and am givenis good,
but not enough.  If there really is one
I can happily love, I'd like to know,
but--I perceive I am a complex wood,
needing to share with several kinds of sun.
Am I sad?  Am I a fool?  Maybe so.

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