the pond’s ice creaks
under her weight
Tag: ice
A small box of leftover parts
from all the broken things I tried to fix.
trapped in ice
the cattails shape-shift
into clouds
wetlands in winter
I crush another cathedral
with every step
Sound travels more slowly in the cold.
Over the next four years, some words may freeze before they leave our mouths.
Growing up during the Cold War
we watched for the flash of a nuclear strike by day, and by night, the mysterious lights of UFOs.
In this new upside-down world
crops grow in the absence of sunlight, sexless and cold as an economist’s dream.
The way my skin cracks in winter
maybe I’ll molt.
rainbows
where the chainsaw sat
leaking oil
weighted by ice
the laurel leaves turn
pale-side up
