I can’t breathe right in this chill,
Though steam pours out of my mouth
As I make my way over the crusted earth,
The bare trees exposing each vulnerable
Nest that leaves hid in season and
Kept their contents safe,
And most have become empty
Cages out of which the birds
Or squirrels or raccoons
Have fled, the rigid world
Offering the former residents
No warm place to take refuge
And so they go and I go
And we walk this world
Together like shadows of each other
Waiting desperately for spring
To thaw us
Inside and out,
So we might rebuild the nests
We fled in winter.
No comments:
Post a Comment