Cautionary

My eyes saw you with those brides,
My old self wanting a drink
And compelling you to have a drink.
God covered a great bridge in old weather,
And clouds came low the way they
do in recollection.

There was a calamity;
Rope-ways in a blizzard
Collapsed and drifted over, maybe;
Or a way home misremembered
Near Christmas.

I told you I'd seen dogs'
fur stand straight across wind
when things in the wind were ill;
When wolves and worse others
ringed up against the dying fire,
and the sun crept up
and fell right back down again.