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~ By Courtesy of Others ~


In the Snow

In the snow
My breath weeps tears
Into my beard
And I sit beside the stars
That have fallen amongst the pines
Burning in the whiteness.
Like the first man
I am hammered out of clay
And the only thing that moves
Is thought itself,
Quicker than the otter
In the flashing stream.
I will never leave this place,
but a part of me,
Still god or a part of his work
Fresh from the sweat and steam of the fire
Still on me
Will find its way back into the world
And bring you news from this place
Where you can still hear the hammers of creation
Ringing in the eternal darkness.

Harry Easby

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