I Could Scream

I've been waking up to the sound of the
ocean crashing against my bedroom door, threatening
to splinter the thin pine frame into matchsticks,
toothpicks, and I can't figure out how
the waves could have gotten so close to
my house when I built it a thousand miles
from any sea shore. Waves fade to

still silhouettes of snow dunes seen through the
window overlooking the back yard
an army of frozen giants poised to
threaten my livelihood in a different way
than the onslaught of
phantom sea storms. I wrap myself in blankets, sip cups of hot
tea, pray for the days when the sun is so hot that I dream

only nostalgic thoughts of these
endless nights of winter cold.