The Voices of Swan Lake in Winter
Icy drum lake
Thunder beings lodging
in the depths
below thickening ice
counseling timelessly
Powerful breath heaving sighs
stiff rumbling mantras up
through cold-bellied waters
Cracking the surface
Into an artistry of lines
un-treaded, un-divined
Illuminated by moon
even the loons have left.
~Diana Newman (old tipi poem)
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