Too cold


Winter is always too cold

for those with bones too close to the skin

and blood too deep in the bone.

Steep me in the warm earth

deep as shoot and seed

feathered with owls calling

from tree to star and back again

for the restless spring.

Fire and blood haiku

Painting by August Kopisch

Ironstone rust red
streaks of dried blood, walls running
whispered memories.

Firebrand you are
burning in the darkest night
you drink from my pool.

Earth tilts and cold grips
star fire quenched in the deep night
cold hand of dark space.