Snow-suit zipped and buckled,
\nhat strapped beneath his button chin,<\/p>\n
I set my son down a moment,
\nto strap on my snowshoes\u2014<\/p>\n
and stove-legged, star-armed
\nhe toddles off after a turning leaf,<\/p>\n
down the road that\u2019s now a sunblown
\nwing of ice. When I scoop him<\/p>\n
into his pack, he goes stony,
\nlittle mouth a nut until I lift him<\/p>\n
onto my shoulders, into the sky.
\nWe shoe up and slip down drifts,<\/p>\n
wend our slow way through oak
\nand heavy-headed sumac,<\/p>\n
now a tight stand of leaning trees\u2014
\nsmooth-barked, pale as apricots\u2014<\/p>\n
whose names I do not know.
\nI lecture anyway on woodrat voles<\/p>\n
and wrist-thin rabbit holes,
\nthis byzantine business of claw<\/p>\n
nock and hoof pock in the blue
\nand faultless snow. As cold<\/p>\n
as these last nights have been\u2014
\nevery track is purposeful, I know,<\/p>\n
but today they seem even more so:
\nletterings or glyphs, a story<\/p>\n
we might follow to some ancient,
\nquaking, blood-warm source\u2014<\/p>\n
or would it be conclusion?
\nA purling wind rattles sticks,<\/p>\n
salt and meltwater at my lips.
\nIt is time to kneel and shrive\u2014<\/p>\n
I cannot parse the stories. The hour
\nmight be mine, it might be yours,<\/p>\n
it might in the coming cavalcade
\nof griefs slip like a snowmelt wind<\/p>\n
from each of us. I rise, we rise,
\nand walk another mile, rustle up<\/p>\n
a great barred owl, watch carp
\ndart beneath the river\u2019s lace of ice.<\/p>\n
Snow-suit zipped and buckled, hat strapped beneath his button chin, I set my son down a moment, to strap on my snowshoes\u2014 and stove-legged, star-armed he toddles off after a turning leaf, down the road that\u2019s now a sunblown wing of ice. When I scoop him into his pack, he goes stony, little mouth a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":22,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false},"categories":[15],"tags":[25],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Jypy-1oq","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5358"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/22"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5358"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5358\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10252,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5358\/revisions\/10252"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5358"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5358"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5358"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}