Poem on Winter and such

Winter,
white world, a twilight star-

distant home he walked out on

and never returned to.
Friends worried,

sent out a search party.

Winter,

where were you? in what hole

did you sleep, face covered in concave feathers,
furrowing ambitions to be deleted.

Winter ravaged by streams of ice-vacuumed cocoons,

haven to ravens and all wild things-

waiting patiently guarding armored atop lamp posts

girdled furiously in linen,

abundant particles of cellar beams creeping in-

Winter, move over, make way-

one more instance of a vast indecipherable landscape

crisscrossed by fox tracks.

Winter was where we hid-

buried, avoidable-

from a tripartite covent of vixen.