Winter's coming did you feel
it this morning
walking
there is

DEADDEADDEAD

everywhere

leaves which

(did you)

crunching between

hoofandroot

the mouth
and which
enumerates the light

bending
unbent
fleckless strands
of sunlight

rich in mote
and flaring
about which
the coalesced

atom of LIFE
hangs
(hung
           )

ever so
and briefly which
we all are
but

just a

rich mote

hanging
in a beam