Brass Valley: The Fall of an American Industry

Brass Valley: The Fall of an American Industry
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Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Winter Dance



PHOTOGRAPHER'S JOURNAL:

Winter Dances

So many ways that snow falls! 
Sifted meal piling in a bowl 
Or cross-blown and cheek-stinging 
'Til every tree trunk is skunk-tailed down the side. 
There's raucus, chattering snow that clings as ice
And snow that clumps and thunders softly 
And weighs branches low. 
But last through yawning space, unhurriedly slow, 
Fall silent, gaping flakes of settling down
And the tired earth is quilted and quelled,
And ragged meadows dance a brittle dance.