Freeze and Frost fumble with the trees
The Sun supposedly rises somewhere
Beneath the ground they are talking,
Talking about roots and water and light

Ice-glazed stems vibrate with moving air
Gray days an infinitesimal space in a life
Of dim memory, of instinctual silence
They close their eyes under a black shield

They cannot live with this loss, this cold
Goodbye all things, they think it a death
They do not remember Spring, or being born
And greening again and again.