winter wind

porcupine napping
on the latrine

up

in a cold cloud
trees and all

When I stand up, I see the large coyote that’s been watching me—who knows for how long—from 50 feet away.

the downtrodden snow
ready to shine

shadows
of witness trees

Over the past year since St. Valentine betrayed me, I’ve shed four stone walking it off.

on my bed
winter dreams

how to scratch the mountain
until it purrs

If I were a tree, head-down in the earth, I’d stretch one toe into the clouds.

the heritage
of snow fleas

finding a clump of snow
in my coat pocket

shrink-wrapped in ice
my evergreen