Life goes on wrapped up in days 
Amd months and years 
And then something small, inconsequential 
Peeps out of a grainy abyss 
It emerges unshrouded, unexpected 
And the fragility 
That is also life, folds up 
The soft blanket about us 
And we feel the chill 
Of new news, the icicles
Of probabilities, plausibilities 
Pierce benumbed flesh 
The fragility of life
Touches us with light fingers, it tries 
But our hearts beat like the delicate wings 
Of butterflies at the end of spring 
We feel, we reel we come undone 
For a while or longer and then 
The chill settles into our bones
Wistful companion for a season 
That somehow takes root 
While summer and autumn 
flit past in their time 
Winter settles into our boots
In the lines of our palms 
And behind our eyelids like iodex balm 
Tearing now and then at flesh and veins 
Amid the dead quietness it brings 
Of endings, a resting in the dirges it sings 
Winter becomes our climate within
And we toughen our skins 
With hope, nostalgia and other things 
And somehow we survive, we go on 
Wrapped in hours and days and years 
Until it happens all over again.