the canopy is home to me and the squirrels

together we embrace the season’s chill,

frozen bark on branches and snow glistening

from the limbs / when they jump, i follow

flying into the winter wind with nothing

but the squirrels to carry me through the trees—

the frost’s warm hold brings life to a time of year

when the sun sleeps early / the moon wakes

to light up the earth, glistening decay

in the fields and pastures that lay sleeping

under the branches and trees we lurk in.