laura sims

 

WINTER IN YOU

 

 

Have I seen such a tower

 

Her fleshy, spectacular hand

Would the dogs not find

 

A tower of ash when the hearth wound down

What it costs

 

to put winter in you!

Her nails cleanly sculpted, bare

 

And the autumn?

One buys tires for life

 

Ablaze—

Then her hair falls down

 

Her hand

Is the winter

 

lost, little innocent people?