Provision

Fresh snow— the child fills the trailer of her toy truck.

Packaging the cold ground meat, my hand turns numb.

Netted tight & stacked by the American Legion, the unsold firs.

A barn cat by the compost hisses in defense of eggshells.

The creek at dusk: doves crowd in to drink from the dark water.

Christmas Eve, & sleep’s in short supply as sleet ticks on the windows.