Adam’s First Farm

(Found here)

Maybe the snow will soften the ice

That barbs the wire of the fence.

The cold keeps out more than

Angels, keeps in more than the sparse

Animals that usually graze

Along the yellow distance.

The wind won’t blow his footprints

Back open. Maybe in a few days

The sky will unfold itself,

But right now his breath expands

The emptiness.

Between now and the horizon

He can figure out if anything

Is missing, and if it is, how

To name it. Winter’s not yet

Familiar. He doesn’t know

What it means to trespass or

Escape, only that beautiful bits of snow

Are caught like tufts of wool upon the wire.

~Jack Stewart