by Daniel Lusk

Where the pond will rise
as deep snow ebbs
slow–wise,
brilliant light on oak and hemlock
shadows fading paw prints.

I could read some scripture,
find my keys,
or earn a tracking merit badge
by this religious light.

My gaze is lifted
to the crown of rock
above our house, to head and horns,
to the granite hand that cradles
this late winter moon.

Bear sleeps, woodchuck, birch,
their slow, benign sleep.
I am here with ermine,
coyote, fisher, owl,
swift, sharp–eyed, rapacious.

by Daniel Lusk

Now it is happening
in the past: my brother is gone
and I did nothing to stop him.

Rain and snowmelt
washed out the lane and I
did nothing to stop that either.

Again today, nothing shines.

by Daniel Lusk

1
Little blue finch has died.
I should have known
she’d not withstand cold
in her cage alone.

I buried her under the apple tree
by her mate. And then,
to linger awhile,
I pruned the tree for winter.

2
When light fails, I potter
out of doors. Pry rocks from the rubble
churned up from the pond
by the backhoe last summer,
flat rocks to make a wall

for snakes, for snow to hide.

3
Hollowness of the road underfoot
resounds in the hollow air.

Night draws shadows upward
from the ground.
Snow carrying starlight down.

4
Let’s call the ermine
crossing the deck to lie
by the house Snow White.

Remember the good white duck
that carried Gretel and Hansel
safely over the water.
5
Confined to books and classroom,
these young ones stretch
ripening bodies
under the gaze of their teacher.
They don’t mean anything by it.

by Ron Winkler
          translated from German by Jake Schneider

the way I knew you, as a chant from naked fragrant June
and the way you could hasten your hair, was a trip
to a southern condition. there were four–lipped coasts there,
the touch of acacia, and in the dunes behind them we exchanged
unusual light, an almost genetic correspondence
that we called an altar and where we deposited deep sea nights,
little jellyfish sensualities under the auspices
of our eye bugs and sometimes our heron joints.
I researched in you the most fantastical metaphors
of this century and tended to the feral zoo
of your glances. we oystered around each other oceanically, as
we belonged among those who had shamanic dreams
and those who are dreamt of shamanically. I was
never so two as with you.