Somewhere in Massachusetts
Chris Koza
Little white forest flower at the grasses edge
Running on the eaves the frost is creeping
You can feel it in your knees
I have never been so still
I'm a wolf watching stalking its kill
I will play the game
The wilderness untamed
Feels no pleasure feels no pain
I wash my clothes in the sink
I twist my shirt and wring the water free
I look into the tea before I drink
I twist a lemon and wring the bitterness free
The bees are sleeping so they won't miss
A drop of honey a little sweetness
Little white forest flower no one else will see
I have to come to rest in a vacant nest
In the skeleton trees