In the trees:

the roar of hard winds

The pain

of sharp snow

abrading faces

The heavy pressure

of the wind on the core ice

forcing the deep resonance

of church bells

out of the lake

In the poor visibility of whipping snow:

round silhouettes of distant islets:

giant turtles

Each day

a summit

where we stand,

making ourselves (mis)understood,

feeling the body push past,

hitting on something big,

taking for granted,

feeling the ground move

The nights

unfailing exceptions

from the rule;

the reward of sleep

for the toil of wakefulness;

the ludicrous list of demands

exposed & scattered;

phraseological symbol values

steaming

from cracked Pandora boxes,

silences voiced

against a backdrop

of climbing Sysifosian screes

and crowds of tempted fare-the-wells:

wind

trees

whipping snow

FACE

core ice

resonance

church bells

LAKE

CORE ICE

islets

silhouettes

whipping snow