Crevices bursting with frost
Trees curl their aching roots
As hail stabs the soil.
Sink into the arm-chair
Choke on smoke of decomposing wood.
You must rest
Nowhere for you to go tonight, the
Fog has swallowed your path.
Wounds preserved with time
Plaster will be your only sky, the
Cracks are stars.
Stay and think
And use your imagination
And whispers will learn to shout
And life will penetrate your skull
And grow beautiful from the compost
As the door shuts.