Yesterday I saw my canoes,
three still lives trapped in snow.
I thought of you, the ice
that keeps alive the dead.
But today, I see you differently.
I view you as haiku,
then as three crosses from the hill,
silent but forsaken.
Yesterday I saw my canoes,
three still lives trapped in snow.
I thought of you, the ice
that keeps alive the dead.
But today, I see you differently.
I view you as haiku,
then as three crosses from the hill,
silent but forsaken.
