An image visited last night

Reminding of a phantom

Like some Slavic sentinel.

One without a gun

Moonlight shone upon his snow face

Shadowing the blackened barrel

Used to burn some brush out back but

Never in winter

Deep snow formed his hat right over

Eyebrows down-slanted

Yet he wasn't frowning

As he studied me

With  eyes and ears that recognized

He listened through the window

While I played  winter music

On my violin

Written January 1992 PFM