Joshua Gage

Tupilak in Lake Effect

      The ice rattles

      in the harbor

      of your windows

      with a dance of snowflakes.

      The serpents and horses

      shiver the cup

      like bones. Chains

      echo the lightning

      of Jack’s flowers and ferns.

      The landscape is a trampled scripture

      alone by the dying embers

      of 1,000 frosted ghost ships.

      Dangling their noose,

      illuminated manuscripts

      squeeze the gospel

      out of your forgotten hearth.