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| Nor'easter on the Outer Banks |
Voice of winter's middle,
one steady cheer for days now
high in the crowns of the tree crowd,
so like the surf on the barrier islands
in a week-long nor'easter
that I've come to hear it as the earth-sound,
so like the roar of our blood,
our own individual sea,
some call the hum universal,
always at high tide and the moon always full
with the wind always blowing
and the gulls and the crows always calling
and the great crowns bowing and nodding,
closed systems in a closed system,
one unbroken gasp for as long as it lasts
in an infinite silence.
