Yesterday’s prompt howls
Branches crack, nests hang balanced
I can hear the moon

Darkness has a loud
Voice. The plough person we love
Prepared us, for worse.

With gale force strength, ice
Whips into boiler plate, no
room, errors fatal

Winds excite this night
interminable the wait
Yet Spring will come, in

Time. Winter rises
Sugar’s sweetest gift: Maple
Snow, and Vermont’s hearts.