Dense snow falls

and covers the streets.

What would it be without them?

Grasses stretching on, herds of deer.

Wolves might return. And bear.

Thick muscled trees poke the sky,

their entangling limbs in dances slow, slow,

slow upon the land.

Ladybugs know it. Ground squirrels, too.

Turn your opened mouth to the clouds

and you can suckle a frozen milk, tender, gentle.

I will walk into the hills where evergreens hug the rise,

letting my feet take me into a whitened hush.