The cage I welded fast so I could rattle
it to hell and back: I’m in it now
with Trey, who’s black as Cerberus and snuffling
with a knowledge language cannot hold.
Thus my confusion, circling back along
these paths with quaking leaves and breaching roots,
all manner of the dead: yeast rising underfoot.
The night hangs gray as smoke, houselights a mile
or more away. Small snowflakes and my steaming
breath commingle in my headlamp’s beam.
This is the third straight night I’ve thought I wouldn’t
mind a peaceful death deep in these woods
or in the stubbly meadow west of here.
I’ve lived too safe, so it won’t happen. Yet.
Bio: Thomas Zimmerman (he/him) teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits The Big Windows Review https://thebigwindowsreview.com/ at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, Michigan. His poems have appeared recently in dadakuku, Sage Cigarettes, and The Unconventional Courier. His latest book is the poetry chapbook The House of Cerberus (Alien Buddha Press, 2022). Website: https:/thomaszimmerman.wordpress.com Twitter: @bwr_tom Instagram: tzman2012