Snow-house

 
I share my home with the Sparrows,
the pale whites of their eyes,
a rogue lone wren and a whore light
of a dawn who sings us awake.

I share my home with dark newts
and the newtlets that rise in their stomach,
a beastly surprise of a butterfly
who refuses to learn how to die

and a plum in her bleak, brown nakedness,
and a dogwood who's still showering in white.
I share my home with a winter's child
who douses the ground in fresh sleet.