head first into snow
a body of fire
dashed sprinkles
sugar candles

hair on the floor.

yes mother

i know, i am
so very concerned about myself too.

on the good days, though,
you don't have to worry.
on the bad days, you have to
worry. there's nothing else to do
on those days.

i keep my company

hold the glory of the past in me

and brush stale crumbs off my sheets

and the mice who come at night,

feeding on pieces of the floor,

squeak and shuffle some
sounds of thanks