Vermillion in the Snow
// Linea Jantz
My son’s forehead burns
beneath my palm
cough rattling his tiny chest
I press my lips to his temple
small mittened hand in mine
our boots sink into verdant moss
mottled with ice
we crouch to eye
zombie antlers, lichen
bursting from the ground
snowfall drifts through branches needled evergreen
ancient forest sinking
into winter sleep
fern fronds waterfall
cascade
down the embankment
vermilion in the snow
a mountain ash tree glows
heavy with scarlet berries
a curious dove casts a glance our way
ruffled cozy in feather down
nibbles at a berry
slowly, the feverish heave of his chest
evens
to the drum of my heart beat
my son tosses fitful
but finally
he sleeps