“Whispers of Frost: Discover the Enigmatic Beauty of J.K. Durick’s ‘Early Winter'”
In our cloistered world of forced hot air and
Early dark we pace, we wander, bide our
Time as best we can, like old time shut-ins
Outcasts cast in, looking out at this snow
This cold, the wind still whispering, but it’s
No longer whispering our names.
