Cloak
An ice-dappled path lies
beneath my soles.
Soft, damp flakes and twinkles
of light ready to scorn the marrow
that creaks under milk-white cells.
But I’m too premature for this
new earth. The speckled sleet
whispers insults in my ear as I’m
hurled towards
the path’s fractured skull.
The second I surrender
to the track of cracking ice, my backbone
is saved and cradled by a warm, hushed
sigh, breathed slow onto bones
that once convulsed with the frore and the cold.
Twinkles of ice no longer
threaten my life. Instead, a snowman
follows me, and there’s a twinkle in his eye
when he’s busy warming
my skin.
beneath my soles.
Soft, damp flakes and twinkles
of light ready to scorn the marrow
that creaks under milk-white cells.
But I’m too premature for this
new earth. The speckled sleet
whispers insults in my ear as I’m
hurled towards
the path’s fractured skull.
The second I surrender
to the track of cracking ice, my backbone
is saved and cradled by a warm, hushed
sigh, breathed slow onto bones
that once convulsed with the frore and the cold.
Twinkles of ice no longer
threaten my life. Instead, a snowman
follows me, and there’s a twinkle in his eye
when he’s busy warming
my skin.
