By Eric Greinke

A clear winter night

here in my warm den.

The cedars are bent with snow

by the shores of the frozen lake.

I wake alone to a dying fire.

Drivers on the road

go by but do not see

how moonlight floods the sky.

They just don’t look up.

Tonight the bridges are closed

& travel is dangerous.

I wandered lost for years.

Now here I am,

huddled by a fading ember.


Eric Greinke has two new Presa Press books scheduled for 2016, Poets In Review (a collection of forty-six reviews written from 1972 to the present) and Zen Duende – Collaborative Poems with Glenna Luschei (which includes Lone Bones, published in this issue of Forge for the first time).  www.ericgreinke.com

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