David Nielsen, official caretaker, son of Niels: "The Old Man Behind the Old Man"

The meager light is charged with sudden warmth

that tempts the buds on the brittle branch

and softens pond ice, releasing the hint of a scent of spring.

This seditious weather undermines winter's dictatorship:

its puppet government of cold,

its dark decrees.

A turn in the wind carries the news:

there is nothing cast in stone or ice or precedent

that cannot be chiseled, molded or changed.

In such a climate hope and opportunity abound;

fresh purpose will emerge as surely

as snowdrops elbowing the frozen ground.

On the occasion of the inauguration of

John Adams; Thoughts on Government

The Hunger Moon draws icy tides upriver,

heaving gray-green slabs of seawater

onto the salt marshes. Inland, a house

rides snow swells into evening

while inside the householder, satisfied

in the knowledge of a well-provisioned root cellar,

a woodshed stacked with even cords,

pulls the shutters to, turns from the darkening window.

The urge to retreat to hearth

and leatherbound studies of certainty

is as strong as the pull of the moon;

but there are times

when what we may need most

are the rude and raucous disputations

that sputter and spark

like bonfires on frozen ponds,

attracting a quorum of neighbors.