The forests of my earliest childhood

are evergreen.

But fists are lonely

vulnerable things that can never match the strength of linked hands.

Lay me in a fist-sized hole

feathered with rime.

“A dinosaur.”

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

Neurons take a dendritic form

to maximize their receptivity to the lightning of thought.

Let’s be honest:

we were adrift long before we were at sea.

The snow’s cold flesh

is as full of life as any corpse.

In the coming chill

we will all have to become subnivean.

What is more subversive than laughter?

Only love. Maybe.