Winter the old woman said is this little twig that I am going to break over my knee
For what reason she says being old is the best reason
A violent act of course it is but it is done to let the sun come through
What an extraordinary thing the sun coming through best of all
Through a winter wood and the breaking of the last twig on earth
Everything about it is about the so-called dark side of the moon
Was it a thousand years ago the old woman had her palm read
And being read punched in the face the poor fortune teller
That he never read a palm again
Twigs and old women when you see them together expect a fire to be made
Where else is there to go to warm what goes on behind the eye
Put a place to it and a name and wander out in the snow in your slippers
Even if you don’t believe the impossible you too are making fractures
From this old woman’s lifeline hidden under her axe handle
There’s the suggestion that the twig you thought snapped is whole
And the winters deep into her knees with a little effort
Believe it or not total strangers are helping her to her feet

Ronald Rae