WINTER LIFE
Three a.m. blizzard be damned, Sagittarius
Points his arrow straight to the cabin
Hunkered beneath its mountain.
In the locked-up barn hens mutter beneath two bare lights,
Fox tracks outside tell of a stalking, then retreat. Up mountain
The sow’s pungent den shelters the stir of new bear life.
And frozen mud in the creek bed covers the water snake,
Uroboros, tail circling back to open mouth. Now,
To be part of this winter life,
Rachel Ann is born.
“Look ye there,” soft exclaim the aunts, “hair’s all fire,
Just like her daddy’s.” From then on, she’s Little Red.
Appalachia pure, Red, destined for freckles,
Speaking wayward grammar in an old dialect.
A new daughter, eighth generation for the land.
Three a.m. blizzard be damned, Sagittarius
Points his arrow straight to the cabin
Hunkered beneath its mountain.
In the locked-up barn hens mutter beneath two bare lights,
Fox tracks outside tell of a stalking, then retreat. Up mountain
The sow’s pungent den shelters the stir of new bear life.
And frozen mud in the creek bed covers the water snake,
Uroboros, tail circling back to open mouth. Now,
To be part of this winter life,
Rachel Ann is born.
“Look ye there,” soft exclaim the aunts, “hair’s all fire,
Just like her daddy’s.” From then on, she’s Little Red.
Appalachia pure, Red, destined for freckles,
Speaking wayward grammar in an old dialect.
A new daughter, eighth generation for the land.