ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 3
THIS TIME OF YEAR
walking early out
among straight trunks tall
eyes up bright points
in their usual order
where it's cold and soundless
through the branches
they burn
scattered
dawn still distant
frost sparks in the leaf litter
same white as the moon
full taking in its whole face
our star's splendor
and sending back this light
that catches on the flakes of frost
and flashes up again
if I could see my eyes
would there be in the moist corners
a tiny point reflecting
frost's sparkle
all the places I've loved
and people
are within me and I am
the distance in which
they blur together
but the stars I've seen
since I first looked up in winter
only sharpen their changeless order
with time
only become it seems
more remote and close