A January Poem


The days are short,
The sun a spark
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.

Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor,
And parkas pile up
Near the door.

The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees’ black lace.

The sky is low
The wind is gray.
The radiator
purrs all day.

from…A Child’s Calendar     Poems by John Updike

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