The bitterness of a Capricorn moon
bites at me like the first snow,
knocking me over where the coyotes run.
But it’s different now,
when fear is just a laugh,
when death is just a phase.
The great expanse of snow-covered land
rolls in gentle hills
while I stand my ground.
I’m not afraid,
I whisper into the wind.
A sliver of moon hides mysteriously
while we are plastered with walls of snow.
And it’s okay.
Hidden in the ice
is the seed of life,
waiting to nourish us.