What a dance

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What a dance

Snow flakes fell every day

that I reclined sick

indoors watching them

probe

limbo

from the red chair

but still they

barely

fill the wrinkles

of ground I walk

after all that lying down

not having been able

to rest

themselves

being blown

continuously

around

like thoughts

that don’t

murmur

beyond seeds

Something

has happened

in the night while I

lay

sleepless and warm

walnut leaves lie coupled

stiffly

around the silent

chicken yard

bucks have rubbed

diadems

on the social thrift

of sumac

thistle heads toppled

and surrendered bladders

of silk

the fallen tree

is piled in half-chopped logs

like stacks of half-

read books

poke berries shine

like deer pellets

and deer pellets shine

like poke berries

the frozen white platter

of the pond

bears black marks

that twirl and slide

jump and land

such tiny paws

and large hooves

tied together

by claw-dragged lines

What a dance it must have been

for each one

going after the mystery

in their own way 

Listen to a podcast of this poem here.
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