Behold:  love cradled in ice.

Moon hidden, an afterglow

on snow.  A traveler in these fields

could miss it.  Space tolls its

bell.  He goes outside to look.

He is absence.  He is the world.

All the crows have gathered

on trees at the jail.  What

do they find there?  The children

sleep in their beds.  Behold:

all the voices find their throats.