Not too long after college, during my first winter after moving to New England, and while still clinging to literary tendencies, I was inspired to write the following poem. It was a late January night and I had just returned from a walk in the snow from my house to the North Bridge in Concord, Massachusetts. As I recall, I then sent this off to a new penpal from Germany that I met in Seattle, Bettina Hahne.


The North Bridge on the River Concord
Snow scattered thick over wooden board
Charred oak smells, filtered to my senses
Stoned walls let loose, no longer fences
Perfect glass crystals bounce off the cheek
While a distant glow grows faint and weak
Drifting music of snow.. angelic.. light
Ghostly gray trees dancing in brilliant night
Within domain of the Minuteman's stare
Do Henry's words echo, first here, then there
The pervasive ether of night-falling snow
Melds into one, dream and life as I know
Steven Erat,1/26/95

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