2018

Down this long wooden stair,
slick snow piles on step and railing.
On every side tree trunks people the ravine
down toward the frozen lake.

My muffled hand slides
clumps of snow away
with every bend of knee;
padded fingers grasp
wet boards as I step,
carefully down the side
of stillness.

Attachment to life
curls, decided as my grip,
spirit agreeing (for once) with fingers--
not fear so much as looking forward,
as wanting to go on---
affirmation over and over
before a thousand living
witnesses.

I turn at the bottom,
look back at wooded slopes
I have descended,
feel like flinging out my arms,
like screaming one great cheer
of exultation.