buried in the garden, i’d bloom to holly
when the cold rolled around, grown
from leaf-rot and tree-decay / the snow
echoes against birch bark, blankets
the earth’s bed, lays rose roots to rest—

(excerpt)

if winter was a berry

where glooming gourds grow under mushroom
trees and underbeans wrap around my ribs / scintlings
and rot fiends walk on deep soil, shimmering weeds
coat the grass and it shines the way my bones
scatter themselves in crinkling kelp

(excerpt)

i am lost in the undergarden

together we embrace the season’s chill,
frozen bark on branches and snow glistening
from the limbs / when they jump, i follow

(excerpt)

K.S. Baron

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