Now threads the winter coverlet
Over rock pools icing the moon’s glow,
In skies where planets are scarce
And thoughts rarer still.
In heavens where clouds
Bob sail boats.
Now too threads the cloth of winter
Where bay winds tip and fold
And waves list gently; rolling
In the equinox that breezes
Carry still as songs
In sixpences.
Now weaves the thread of winter
Through windows of summer cottages
Low nailed; salted
By the ripples of shores long
Looped in sprays
Of sea holly.
Now finally threads the winter coverlet
Spidering channels scooped only
In ribbon; wracked
Only by lanyards of wars
Lost loves
In days stolen.