Anywhere snow falls becomes a temple.
An image draped in weather,
its silent white auspices that shatter.
The shape of a vehicle; the unbearable
silence inside it. The tires huddled
beneath its frame. White drifts
of weather fold it in: heavy,
pressed, a clover in a book.
Temporary. A prayer:
yes to wheels, to the idea of wheels,
they are the temple we have built,
the shrine to our god
which is leaving wherever we are.
Katie Byrum is from Kentucky but lives in Brooklyn, where she co-curates the Tri-Lengua Reading Series and the witchy reading series COVEN. Her first collection of poems is forthcoming from Forklift Books. Find more at hellohumanblog.tumblr.