the good marrow
can be ice and snow
as we clutch hands
and brace
against the windy cold
the warmth inside
feels better
with a thawing face
only after such blustery violence
do we find our place
drinking it all in deeply
the close comfort
leaves us sleepy
but we spark again
alive at the freezing source
to dance with fellow devils
joyous
as life runs its course
