[A] The day it definitely turned Cold, I saw my feet advancing, As winter does off the north pole, Towards that arbor of trees.

Soon under my feet I found The five fingers of maple leaves Slowly tunneling into the soul, To hibernate all winter Under a blanket of molten fire.

Here what is alive can stand For what is dead. So he comes Alive again and beings to sing. Under me, Peavine Creek, provides Accompanies him, running Silver tongues over cold stones, And I drink to his song from the bone Flask of winters of separation.

[B] Laughter spilling out Between my fingers, Rain in winter.

Lean black branches Grab sky’s ass, The ginko dropped All its leaves overnight.

Travelling back to you, I lose pain, loose change.