“Church in Winter landscape” by Sophus JacobsenText within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedBuriedBuried between my finger and thumbMy pencil rests Eraser worn as much as the lead.Working both ends, led like A frantic candle of perfection. As a kid rain was God’s tearsMy back sore at fiftyFrom shoveling frozen tears That Date puts in hell.By God, the old man can handle a spade.Just like his old man.Cutting through the frozen turfCutting through the noi...