Naked Homes

The clearest Nights' sky
Speaks frost, boring into bone
That held clouded warmths, of Cold denied
Comforting walls gone, now naked homes
An opening observed by white firelights in the unclothed skies
Clothe and close with layer upon layer
But clearing light deprives the right
Bares-bearing in the moonlight, Colds' prayer
Praying leaf falls from ash, from oak, from soul.