Michigan Winter Landscape, Painter Unknown

He must have hated this ground
or maybe loved what he feared.
Every brush stroke seems to whisper,
Please, don’t bury me here.

Everything’s grey, even the wind,
a sky birds never cross. Everywhere
snow weighs on the ground, intent
on locking everything down.

At the edge, lower right, the remains
of a fence and just a hint of animal tracks—
as if they’d come to the edge of the world
and had the good sense to double back.