I see as through a skylight in my brain
The mole strew its buildings in the rain,
The swallows turn above their broken homes
And all my acres in delirium.
Straight-jacketed by cold and numb-skulled
Now sleep the well-adjusted and the skilled –
The bat folds its wings like a winter leaf
The squirrel in its hollow holds aloof.
The weasel and ferret, the stoat and the fox
Move hand in glove across the equinox.
I can tell how softly their footsteps go –
Their footsteps borrow silence from the snow.