* * *

snowflakes on my bald head tapping woodpecker

subnivean I tunnel through the day half awake

Groundhog Day the former coal town living off a shadow

cabin fever today’s potato flaky as old wood

meltwater pool the way my reflection keeps shivering

cold moon of the month I was born ass-first

space between night-time snowflakes for warp speed

walking the line on both sides the same light rime

ice form fits each body of water

a flutter of snowflakes a flurry of snowbirds an afterlife of seeds

as above so below the color of absence

Presidents’ Day— to build a fire any refuse will do

no dark side of the moon where a Chinese probe is growing plants

unplowed road someday the mountain itself will bury us

white-footed the way my memory places mouse tracks in snow

porcupine squeezing through a deer fence seems somehow proverbial

winter sun hoisting all its bristles into the treetops

spider on the snow the granularity of land underfoot

you dance with everything you’ve got wind trees