February

Old Man Winter traversed the lands
stopping, occasionally, to undo
the hobo-sack on his walking stick, to
pour out the snows .

White and whirling, they came --
sometimes in furies
sometimes in silence
but always making peace with the Earth, before settling down its blanket, o'er hills and valleys.

He tipped his hat to the sun, heavy-lidded
and slumbering, and walked on
into crystalline fields .