Eating snow at dawn

The wind is gusting.

Old man birch, wide eyed, faces right into it.

Nose like a prow of a ship.

Snow drapes from his forehead, wraps
around his eye, drifts the length of his nose.

His nose – an elongated flat knot
on the outward side of a slight crook in the
trunk – faces directly into the wind.

Wide-eyed old man birch! Arms open to what may come.

Eating snow at dawn. The first good snowfall.

I eat it off boughs and railings.

It is delicious.

A melt of minerals.

The next day it is granular.

(written 2.25.12 / modified 3.1.12)

Eating snow at dawn

Nadia Korths

Plattsburgh, United States

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