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posing for some sort of cubist

                                            posing for some sort of cubist
                                            snowstorm painting
                                           
                                            three isoceles evergreens
                                            slowly climb
                                            a steep hillside meadow

                                            duck under 
                                            gauzy flake-white surgical
                                            smocks
                                            streaking black light plasma

                                            saw hurriedly through
                                            the swirling storm's whorled cage
                                            of ribs
                                            to a stuttering heart

                                            that mews
                                            every thought
                                            never thought