Those Who Stand and Wait

Those who stand and wait

Also serve the coming cold,

Their breath as a fog

Waiting for the light,

The shrill whistle that tokens

The coming of warmth

So slow a descent,

The whispering flakes so soft

Down and down and down

Shadow of fir trees

Long on the midnight window,

Coniferous night

Girders of the bridge

Silhouetted in sunset,

Black-orange furnace

The view from the bridge,

The silent, the cold, the white

Mystery of snow

Where the silent rails

Show girders fast to the north,

Waiting on rumbles

Chairs on the outside

Covered in silent speech of frost,

The dead air talking

The hearth defiant,

Christmas crackles sparkling from

The burning embers

The gift of the north

The tracks of silent running,

Sharp air hunting wolf