turkeys in snow

each footprint resembles
a bird in flight

dog in the fog

muzzle swiveling to catch
every scent

the blind dog lapping
at her reflection

Said with a dismissive tone, as if it should’ve known the sky was glass.

is as full of life as any corpse.

has convinced us this stillness is meditative?

we will all have to become subnivean.

probing the beebalm’s red forked tongues

indigo bunting corpse / in front of my door / shockingly blue

snake at my feet / wanting and not wanting / to stroke its scales

the acrid odor / of a stinkbug’s fear / kitchen spider

skull / on my filing cabinet / still has all its teeth