Today's poem is by Ned Balbo

Bison Gathered on a Bed Resist Extinction
       

The sheets milk-white and crystalline—
        Snow falling out of sleep.
The tiny bison, wandering.
        The white space where they creep,

its ripples blank and mutable
        like snow-drifts drawing near.
The bison, horned and vulnerable,
        look lost but persevere.

Grim, shaggy, ever curious,
        the herd inspects its range.
The bed's steep edge, mysterious—
        A landscape bleached and strange.

The silkscreen snow suspended in
        descent, the pillows cool.
The absent patient still unseen.
        Each snowflake like a jewel

that, falling, never perishes—
        The chilly bison keep
their vigil here, where dying grass
        breaks through. The snow's not deep,

and tiny grazers, born to scavenge,
        show no grief or fear.
On sheets of snow, immune to change,
        they'll never disappear.

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Copyright © 2024 Ned Balbo All rights reserved
from Able Muse
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission