Winter Recalled
for Dominick

Wrist locked over wrist,

wrung hands between knees,

hunched shoulders closing

across the sunk glance,

knotted, shrunk.  This

is not stillness of peace

but that movement is pain.

Can the natural dance

ever break out again?

Wait.  If you like, pray.

Though you do not know what to,

some words, some things remain.

We believe in love and truth

though not knowing what they mean.

If our love can keep its faith

there is a chance (chance?)

the frost will break, youth

break to its natural dance.