Cabin Fever


The spine of the snow worm
clings to the molded wooden railing

patterned ice vertebrae
of ovals spiraling away
refracting light onto the beige siding

and a shadow of season’s death
still being chewed in it’s frozen jaws
falls toward the pit of my stomach
spreading cold rock panic


They found him
eighty-six years and thawing
negative twenty wind chills
stole his breath-
his son claimed he had Alzheimer’s
but others know better
being permanent residents of Michigan
and all


We aren’t supposed to be here
and those who could migrate

There’s always death in the air
‘round this time of year

the brave hunker down
blow their noses
and wait for the finish

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Filed under poetry, published work

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