In the coming chill

we will all have to become subnivean.

What is more subversive than laughter?

Only love. Maybe.

sawed-off end of a log
now riddled
with openings

maple-leaf viburnum / turns out its true color / is viburnum

probing the beebalm’s red forked tongues

haiku: state forest / a maze of snail trails / on the road sign

at the trailhead / a maple limb grows down / into the earth

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

haiku: “sprouting acorns / the No Hunting sign / nearly blank with age”