Saturday Night Snowstorm. January 2009.

                    
Ride the war horse
frozen man, hungry dog
bleed, proclaim victory
in the winter night.

Consume the rigid air,
the long dismal thoughts
stripped, starved and committed
to the icy pleasure.

Oh Child, Oh Man.
Ye sometimes-liar,
chained to the deafening white
where love and  hatred are simple.

Ride on, beat the beast,
fly, wet and terrible
into the miscreant swirls.

Drink deep, child,
this reckless silence
this ponderous air
of frigid conviction.

Oh, Man, ye sometimes-honest
freedom in the deep dark
where winter never ends.