The Reindeer The reindeer winter-cries in vain for his lost mate His cry turns brittle frosty-mist, ascends the clouds. His hooves make run, his antlers gouge the whited shrouds That veil the trees. He stops. The land is desolate: A savagery rests still and wild---the trees are stark The air is cutting, rivers break, the woods are dark. Reflections are instilled within the freezing streams, Mirror to a world which lives and preys on dreams. Silent falls the night, it speaks no calm or peace. The birds are gone, the leaves are dropped, the wind is dead. As winter grips the savage land, so does life cease Or wish it would. The snow beyond the grove is red, Fierce-trampled. Here a starving wolf has preyed and killed. The reindeer lashes torment at the bitter cold; Breaks the silence, screams its anguish. And grows old. The night rests quiet. Life rests, too, when death is willed. A Sonnet Set in 1933 This new administration may do well. The radio reports that happy days Are here again. If so then whence this hell In pauper shades of sepias and greys? While Hollywood spins glitter into cash Fitzgerald slowly drinks himself to death The Ritz retains the acrid smell of ash Depression’s drought rains dust upon the heath. In Europe, a new chancellor urges hate, Denounces goodness, shutters every door But one---expansion of a master state His selfish struggle pointing towards war. The struggles of this brave new world make clear Fear’s not the only thing we need to fear. Brian Yapko is an attorney residing in Santa Fe, New Mexico.