Winter is here
and I ache with it.
My chest shrivels
up like all the dead
things buried in the ground,
or under a thin layer of ivory
setting powder. My body
slumbers in an icicle
embrace.
The flurries gust,
shaking my thoughts
snow globe style til I am as topsy
turvy as the recycling bin, blown
across the street and as stuck
as a Mini-Cooper in 4 inches
of snow-plow slush. The last few
leaves may fall off the trees in addition
to my toes, hanging on the branch
of my leg in cold, cold for too long.
Upis beetles freeze
in the negatives, creating
a statue of their own innards.
Wood frogs supplement sugar
to survive cryogenics, but they hop
crawl to life in the spring-
just as the ice in my hair melts
into soggy tracks down my face
and evaporates.
Katelynn Paluch