All I want is a locality 

to call my own name 

and have it return 

without a mountain 

without a valley 

or meteor of snow 

winter is a kind old 

cruelty a kin I have 

come to recognize 

facts over naysayers 

over snow shaking 

my head saying believe 

me my heavy echoing

a marble thing I 

have marveled at 

how things can stand 

even in grief these 

blinking radio towers