Here you are, back
in the blue-white woods--

how tall the birches,
how delicate the pines!

Standing on the frozen plot of snow,
you suddenly know these trees

will be your gravestone.
Nothing stirs--but what

are those sounds?
You balance on the crusty edge

while all around you ice
invisibly thaws,

beneath the snow
the mushrooms smolder,

and under your feet the unborn grass
hums in its bed.