Avalanche/New Poem (Rough First Draft)

Very rough first draft. The rain came last night and my roof sounded like it was going to cave in as the snow started to shift.


Snow fell off the roof last night.

It rumbled, then thundered

to the ground, settled densely

by the wooden walls of my cabin.


I thought ‘this must be what

an avalanche sounds like,’

before picking my pillow

up off the floor.


Sleep dropped me running

on a high, desolate slope,

far above the tree line.


I was being followed by a heavy,

white tide, and though I ran

until  my heart came close

to bursting, it caught up,

closed itself around me.


I felt, then, like I’d swallowed the world.


I found myself unable

to do anything

the Discovery Channel

had told me to; make a pocket

of air around my mouth

with a cupped hand,

kick my legs out, calm down.


My breath was my worst enemy,

and I died in under 18 minutes,

entombed in snow.


I woke up hot, shaking,

hands flailing in the cool,

open air of morning.