for Gail Langstroth

Snow falls thick enough to be heard—
an inept burglar. I fall asleep.

A moonbeam sounds like a forgotten tune.
Midnight.

I climb a frozen tree beneath the stars
near the house where my sister was born.

Beyond the bay window, stairs
where she fell, broke her foot.

A robin on the cobblestone walkway
tries to flap a broken wing.

The bird shrieks for help that will not come;
I know this because I once tried.