Fence in Winter
 Overgrown
 And closed
 Four sides
 Nothing enters—
 Just silent snow
 Trust that it won’t open up;
 Seasons change and it remains untouched
 Inside black
 Vines wither
 As they glow
 You are the moonlight
 Shining in
 Between posts
 Trust that it won’t open up;
 Seasons change and it remains untouched
 The sound of death surrounds it all the time
 Though flowers sometimes spring up on the vines