ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 4
STORM FORECAST
moss light under trees
the gray anxious waiting
my joints heat themselves
work on the highway stops
squirrels return to the hollows in the trees
a motion of air flickers like a heart racing
a leaf edge stands up
from where it lies on the ground
the drawn out end of winter
stretches across the first days of spring
a letter from a beast
says the forests are snowful and we have found
it overcomes you whether you are strong or not
we will all be muffled in the same white soon
whatever has passed between us before
I assure you is now forgot
when the storm is done we will all be
comrades in scratching our way out
meanwhile I wait and
while waiting I send this forewarning