“Moves of Little Consequence Ending with a Groundhog” by Thom Ward

Etcetera's MistressThere’s the cold that manifests and there’s the cold
we blast at others because we can. One by one
these flakes, confused paratroopers behind enemy lines,
strike the windows, the roof, cling to branches.
Zealous believers drive their vessels into precarious
waters, know the fury of the hunt, as elsewhere
sudden squalls begin inside the agnostic’s head.
If you stay out too long in the snow, your hands
will get icesolated, our five-year-old says, just
in case we forget. I follow bleached rivulets of toothpaste
down the drain, another trail of exhausted ideas.
Woodchuck, please forgive small reckonings we run
through. Sun, shadow, shadow, sun—the white cloak
of the asinine each year gets dumped on you.

Thom Ward,
Etcetera’s Mistress
Accents Publishing

More from Etcetera’s Mistress and Thom Ward:

252 thoughts on ““Moves of Little Consequence Ending with a Groundhog” by Thom Ward

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *