Winter Night

A monotonous beat from a slow leak in the faucet,

The steady ticking of the alarm clock

And the low hum of the heater

Fill the empty space in my room and my heart

Which flows out through the window

Over the snowy trees and streets

To salute the tireless stars.

But as my soul flies through the lonesome sky

Calling out to all my friends

The night brings no reply.

And endlessly my life flows on

Through cozy suburbs,

Decaying ghettos,

Sunlit fields,

Shaded forests and canyons.

Ever passing, never pausing,

Ever flowing on, always leaving behind -

A ceaseless going over

Of will into memory.

-Joshua Putnam

Fall, 1983