Snow & Ruin
Straight from the window, I watch the ice wedged against the ground.
My lids stay open, backed against my skin.
There isn’t enough snow on the ground to bridge the sizable gap that’s growing.
There aren’t enough icicles from building edges to kill me comfortably.
Still, when it’s time for the sun to dissolve the frost, time for the grass
to mend, whoever finds me at the window, will find me rotted… dead.