Laying the Grave Blanket

The melt weeps through my knees while kneeling, fluff-
ing out the spray of pine boughs and red ribbon.

All around us the tall trees slough white casts that punc-
tuate the snow on the ground,

to the grass with a vast ellipsiad,

a word I made up on all fours now,

for the long, long race in which you will always have the

three more dots more than me.