The freezing moon

November 27, 1981

Moonlight freezes the ground, Clenching water to ice in a hard white grip. Its light breaks off into flakes that, scattered, are found Blown into drifts by the tail of a comet that whips The air up into a frenzy that when it calms Lies thick and cold on the landscape of woods and farms. But tonight the air has been cleared And visible to the eye the paleness pours Icefloes over the country, luminous, weird, Flooding condensed to a solid substance. The spores Of reflection have travelled through light-years to coalesce As the ice on the pond, the crystals the clods express.