by Peter Grandbois
In the end, there is mostly exhaustion,
And wine like blood in this webbing dusk,
The scavenger wind playing its fearful song.
It’s not too late to change your mind.
The snow recedes past the oaken gate,
Revealing footprints in the mud.
The crows watch from the safety of nests—
The thread of smoke rising.
Do you see it
faint as a glowing
Peter Grandbois is the author of twelve books, the most recent of which is Everything Has Become Birds (Brighthorse 2020). His poems, stories, and essays have appeared in over one hundred journals. His plays have been nominated for several New York Innovative Theatre Awards and have been performed in St. Louis, Columbus, Los Angeles, and New York. He is poetry editor at Boulevard magazine and teaches at Denison University in Ohio. You can find him at www.petergrandbois.com.