This is the Moon of the Popping Trees
When frost crackles the bark
When your spit hits the ground like a bullet
And the stars shine without twinkling in the dark

This is the dead of winter
The fallow patch after Yule
Just before the first thaw
When human passions cool

It is not a myth among the law
This winter stretch sees little crime
It’s a time for surviving on your own
And not for doing time

Something to remember
Airplanes fly best in the biting cold
When the air is undisturbed
And turbulence can’t take hold

Train travel is smoother too
The tracks aren’t buckled by heat
I once rode a train into Winnipeg
That was completely ice-sheathed

This weather is hard on animals though
Especially the ones who share our homes
Don’t leave them out for the night
Never leave them alone

This is the Moon of the Popping Trees
When frost crackles the bark
When your spit hits the ground like a bullet
And the stars shine without twinkling in the dark