Hyacinth garden
somewhere there is a fence
that blocks the way of swirling snow
and splits the howling winds despair

where no one's face can stand the pelting stings
you can see them in the snowdrift

there my cold breath repents an icy night so intense

overhead a frozen waning moon sees the show

a harbinger of the snow-storms scaffold in disrepair
as the northeast wind hunts down all living things
we find them there in the snowdrift
on this wintry shore a story always retold
feel fierce precedent of waves throbbing 
the creek, the heavens, and tons of sand 
unyielding in and out with curious skill
there in a snowdrift
trucks and train no way too hurry
cars and airplane shut down by December
neither birds nor man have a notion
all frozen stiff with no recourse
all alone in the snowdrift
seas dusted with snow rough in sound and fury
same wind blowing on shores they remembered
before the unstoppable forward motion
where natural beauty has no remorse


in the snowdrift 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

revision of "drift" the first draft was too casual...

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