i witnessed the last of the snow piles
hand-shoveled or machine-threwn
and the natural drifts too
and the mound in the hollow
of the hügelkultur crescent moon

slowly recede, in a mesmerizing, seemingly molassic, week’s long retreat
then finally and sadly, concede

to the undormant grasses and soft ground beneath
to the sunlit warmth
of these nouveau
great lakes winters

my god,

what global madness
this adored microcosm, my priceless homestead, reveals
and catechizes for me:

our violent, human heat
an unrelenting torrent of accelerant that would
vanquish the ancients

melt greenland’s sheets of ice,
calve antarctic glaciers, strand polar bears,
expose or drown granite, basalt, gneiss

all, in the time of
that old sugar maple’s life

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