Birches And Tarots

Falling down and out

What do I do?

No articulation, just loud

What should I do?

I can hardly breathe

What can I do?

My words are wind through teeth

What can’t I do?

The unknown palette of ivory engulfs

Thin-leaved, black-spotted birch trees

Only trunks are seen, with no branches in sight

No stability or adaptability, like dieback disease

Glassy, torn and jagged, serrated arrowheads

Blackened rubble on a blackened river

Just barely hidden by the hard-packed white-out

Snow lines the violent stream as they wither

As the water begins to steal the heat

While two wolves watch under a new moon

While a lobster sits proudly betwixt pillars

As for the cold and untold, I am not immune

There’s no sleep, just emotional cargo

© Niklen 10/8/21