I crossed a bleak, frozen lake

tracking the smell of wood smoke

hanging

inviting

promising

in the darkening cold my mind saw

hearth,

warmth,

love,

caring people telling

past glories

coming triumphs

people touching each other

willingly

greeting a stranger

people gathered around their own warmth

built of many hands' labor

to be used as each needed

The cabin sat well back from the shore

deep in the trees

stumps showed black on the old snow

rubble,

snow draped,

disguised itself

grateful to winter's blanket

Thump Thump Rattle

Thump Thump Rattle

A lone boy dribbled his basketball twice,

hit the front of the rim

caught the ball as it returned to him

and

repeated

the process

I asked, "Why don't you make the shot?"

"Because," he said,

"if I make the shot I would have to go get the ball.

This is easier."

I asked, "Can we go inside?"

"Why"

Not a question,

a statement.

Thump Thump Rattle

"Can we go inside to get warm?"

"Not in there."

Thump Thump Rattle

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