les neiges d'antan

[fledgist]

 yesterday's snow is dirty now and dark

we look for ice and worry about shade

as the sun rises and the long parade

of normal time resumes along the stark

roads and each newly-woken seems to mark

a world made gritty when light must abrade

both faith and fear the horror we have made

there's nothing but the chance of a new spark

from a great distance in another zone

there's news more bitter than the fleeting cold

and nothing that can make it feel more light

since each plain word will cut right to the bone

yet do no more than let us know what's told

which is that all will come to end in night