Hello Winter, hello flanneled br blanket of clouds, clouds br fueled by more clouds, hello again. br br Hello afternoons, br off to the west, that silver br of sunset, rust-colored br and gone too soon. br br And night (I admit to a short memory) br you climb back in with chilly fingers br and clocks, and there is no refusal: br ice cracks the water main, the garden hose br stiffens, the bladed leaves of the rhododendron br shine in the fog of a huge moon. br br And rain, street lacquer, br oily puddles and spinning rubber, br mist of angels on the head of a pin, br hello, br br and snow, upside-down cake of clouds, br white, freon scent, you build br even as you empty the world of texture- br hello to this new relief, br this new solitude now upon us, br upon which we feed.