i woke up to the nightmare
of my house swallowed in snow.
in greenland we watch
floorboards fall through the fluxing ice

/ only the roof was left i
wanted to crawl into the attic window
to smell the wood of it.
i wanted to curl into the chest

too heavy to lift / filled with quilts.
/ when the permafrost melts, little
bubbles pop when they reach the
top of the lake nearby.

we watch the gases go skyward, they
meet with the geese going south.
the geese say,
methane has lives beyond any wads of old swamp on fire.

i know the frost wants to stay tired,
asleep. be the feverish girl immobile,
a frozen frog on top of a log.
once fully awake, it’s hard

to go back to sleep. you know what i mean.
a snow-sucked home is always met by
one tomorrow in a smokescreen. so the next night,
/ a fire swallowed a house in my dreams.

– Colette Rae Chien