A silence consumes the cold depth of winter, I wonder will death be as silent as dusk? A cold room unlit in shadow, Winter holds with it the small death of loss. The cold snow comes taking birds with it, Finchs and sparrows netted in branches, Worry the hawks ravaging claw. In dusk I leave no trace of shadow before me, My spirit gone to wind by dawn.
I'm getting older, as dusk grows shorter and time moves faster