WINTER OUTSKIRTS

Often on these winter nights, the village rises
in a clamor, as if rising in a sky beyond the sky.

Often, the language of men does not seem to belong
to human lips.  In a house on the edge of a stony field a man

often dreams of a shoreline. Dreams of snow
bleaching the surface of lawns; snow whitening

the roads where even the wind’s gone missing. 
On these winter outskirts if there is no wind, no road, the man

thinks he hears darkness ringing in a world that can't be felt.
Often a man wonders who he was before this night.


Maureen Alsop
The St. Lawrence Book Award
The St. Lawrence Book Award
The St. Lawrence Book AwardThe St. Lawrence Book AwardThe St. Lawrence Book Award
The St. Lawrence Book Award
The Adirondack Review
MAUREEN ALSOP's poems have appeared or are pending in various publications including Words and Images, nthposition, American Poetry Journal, Big Scream, Salzburg Review,  Poetry Motel, among others. This is her first appearance in The Adirondack Review.