Spring Thaw

A remnant conceals
things I can’t
change, a blue
glacial memory
              light’s sharp edges—
                         I lean.
As if my body—
by brittle, gutter, brim
ice. Finding a chickadee’s
feather on a snowflake,
while lost in slumberous,
smooth, blue, smoke.

             I awaken to a chirping,
             flock fly overhead.
             Indeed grace.

From Blood Snow. Copyright © 2022 by dg nanouk okpik. Published by Wave Books. Reprinted by permission of the author and publisher.