Out of the winter twilight
Even the faded sky is tired of winter
And the man who parks his car on the hill
Opens the car door and looks down at the black ice
Before stepping out.
The oblique sun is tired of winter
And so is the soggy soil
And out of the winter twilight
Heedless of the mud and crusted snow
Lit up with the new freedom
To stay out past dark.
He runs alone through the mud and grime
Smiling, breathing hard, pushing it
In a hurry to get away.