A Winter’s Night When Three

I should like to relate this memory…
But it is so faded now…scarcely anything is left—

Mild lamp light about us; King of the Wind
open over our legs. All three of us.

Mother’s voice rising,
sinking—a rocking chair.

My brother’s eyes, soft.
Mine, almost shut.

Father in a far corner, focusing the picture.

Runes, 2006