1970
When the river that ran by my house froze
And the wind had blown the snow off the ice,
I would skate, chasing the schools of dark fish
(Careful not to run too close to the floes
A warm well cracked into sharp ice slices)
Until they’d leave the shallows and vanish.
1870
“That harshest of winters we all survived.
The wind (so murderous) kept us alive,
Piling snow wherever the cold sought in,
Even when we had an empty wood bin.”
“That winter whole families died, frozen —
In our district alone there were dozens.
We burned the houses — better used as graves —
The wind blew snow on our fields into waves.”
Thanks to Irina Velitskaya for recommending this painting.
My book of the first 200 of these sonnets is now available for purchase at Amazon. Click here: