Sunrise tree


A perfect sheen of silence
Joins the surface of the snow
To air, holds all worlds
At bay save this one,
Whose shingled sides
And slivered woods,
And rabbit runs that
Fold the crust and fill
With white heartbeats.

Somethng waits for us
Atop the hill: the drop
Downward into earth's
Gravitational affection.
A place prepares itself
Upon my cheek to take
A spray of ice.
The hiss begins in ear.

But then the rip that
Unseams us between two steps:
A snowmobile unzips
That hesitation snow
Bestowed upon our business,
To bury us beneath
An avalanche of nerves.
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