INTO THE DEAD OF WINTER
(we gave them blankets)
Across the lake
and under the blanket of mist, crouches
the island.
With two depressions like pockmarks
on the brow
of the hill
where they crouched once
in the open
waiting for the sinking darkness.
And behind the island
in the shelter of the shallows
where he broke through
the rotting ice
sinking into the darkness
