It seems like everything gets done in the dark now

Spilling guts

Swallowing hearts

Snapping limbs

To bind them into circles and hang them on our doors

A sign of cheer

So many strange rituals

To make these days and nights feel like home

a dog might cock their head at us

But really, most of them work

For a minute

We put our brightest colors on

And parade ourselves around the yard each morning

Looking for the warmest spot of sun

Where we turn broadside toward the beam

And lean into it

Like horses

There’s ice on the buckets

But only half an inch

Still plenty of water to drown in

Or drink

Maybe if I hold it up like a lens above my face

The cold ice will make the hot sun hotter

I saw the rain turning to snow so I took the shotgun for a walk up the hill

my last chance to catch a hare

white for weeks now

Hiding in a dark hollow

Not knowing it shines like the moon in the night

But I was late

The snow settled fast over the bare ground

my hat and shoulders

So the hare is home free

Good

A clean slate

Maybe even for me

So I look instead for the fat, brown bodies of grouse

I flush one

Huddled under a hemlock

it flies lazy over the rock wall and onto posted ground

I see no other signs of life

but the tufts of grass splayed out with sleet

Look just like the feet of walking hens

Pushed up from the ground

Instead of down

Maybe that means they’ll be here tomorrow

Most boughs bend under the familiar weight of winter

But every few minutes I hear one give way

Some drop softly into the snow

forgotten

Some go out like a gunfight

and they’re forgotten too

All’s fair.

Harrison says to go walk in the night

And I do

And everything he says is true

The child in me has held my hand here always

The only thing I would add to what he said is

Bring your dog.