Reviewing The Situation

It's dark. The beautiful pristine snow Is filthy melt I'm wearing a shawl in bed, over my chilled bones Across the street, blunt spears Of daffodils, prematurely Break the lid of ice A frosty, forceps delivery Meanwhile, an urban fox is hunting Whiskers twitching like wires On No Man's Land My little grand daughter's dreaming Her face is peaceful and smiling Smooth as a bee's wing My face is criss crossed like mud Under a crow's feet So much time I wasted, chasing rainbows The little one is warm as a rabbit's fur The dry sticks of my arms Gather her up, pulsating sleeping treasure