i.
we twist in this great chain
cars skidding uphill
inside the dreams of slush
ii.
friend, sometimes country roads reveal
barns long with a window
through which shines this same orange
the sun carried through
that first sniff of smoke, and you stop,
inquiring with your hands
the corner of this cathedral,
the glowing tarpaulin
stuffed, here!
with repurposed cotton,
pulled away
to resolve
a startled
chicken
iii.
O mesmer curtain of green fireflies
bring music to thin branches,
crawl windbreak trees until
an errant red point realizes
thy thoraxes and wings alike
are of diffracted lasing light