Winter's Formulas
V
The bus crawls through the winter evening.
It shines like a ship in the spruce woods
where the road is a narrow deep dead canal.
Few passengers: some old and some very young.
If the bus stopped and switched off its lights
the world would be obliterated.
Six Winters
5
An empty railway car on a sidetrack.
Quiet. Heraldic.
With voyages in its claws.
