Spring Cleaning in this field of granite stumps I recall once you held me on a bony knee and I complained now my knees complain sinking in spring soaked earth
Silent, Soft and Slow Frost like lace on frozen panes glitters from each tattered weed. Smoke spirals past the ice-glazed eaves snowflakes spill like falling
Wild Woman Found Buried in Suburbia The Story of a Life in Six Words She can be found inside the box among neat rows of look-alike houses with vans and SUVs
William Carlos Williams' winter poems were purely imagistic. Frost anthropomorphized winter into a death wish. Both of those guys (and perhaps John Keats) made
Old Eyes at the Art Institute of Chicago A sequence of seven black and white photographs The Bogey Man by Duane Michals Glass panes cast gray light into room