his woman has come away sadder these days
her soft hands are rougher and her eyes
warmer but not as bright and the first snow
has settled on her hair as if it snowed here

the woman sheds parts of herself
and they start to burn creasing the skin
on her forehead and around her mouth
she crackles in the sun's fire

with these sounds the woman fills her bed at night
and with animals broken in yet not tame only gentle
they lead to any part of the world
they cross the night going to any part of the world

she has grown sadder these days
her soft hands are rougher and her eyes
warmer but not as bright and the first snow
has settled on her hair