I am trying to pry open your casket
with this burning snowflake.
I’ll give up my sleep for you.
This freezing sleet keeps coming down
and I can barely see.
If this trick works we can rub our hands
together, maybe
start a little fire
with our identification papers.
I don’t know but I keep working, working
half hating you,
half eaten by the moon.
by James Tate