CHINESE WINTER >From these bare trees The sticks of last year's nests Print sad characters against the moon; While wind-blown moonlight, Stripping fields to silver, Scrawls December on each frozen pool. Light washed on every tree Roots it in black shadow, As last year's love now roots me in black night; And where love danced Footprints of fiery moments Flash out memorials in silent ice. -- F. R. Higgins (1896-1941)