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.

has convinced us this stillness is meditative?

we will all have to become subnivean.

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