Madman

I can hear the house contract in the cold
the way capillaries withdraw from skin
it's a natural habit in winter to stretch out 
one's arms then draw in hold in fetally in
selfishly in all winter long just as the hoarding
bears contract into giant furred seeds and squirrels 
build their little whirlwind nests of leaves 
high up wrap featherduster tails around noses 
and implode into a thoughtless sleep
trees stand still boulders drag snow
over their smooth hides and say less
than the nothing they usually say 
meanwhile I, madman, who pretends
snow is like dirt am raking
green leaves around my body and 
calling out for the last lingering bird to 
land like a kiss.