Jonas Hands

Intelligence transferred across the mycelium,

It must run underground from city to city to city.

For a moment nature reclaims snow covered streets,

Deer dance while snowplows sit with the salt and sand.

White blankets chase cold companions indoors

to kiss before the world ends at jonas hands.

Blizzard warnings of crippling modern snowflakes

swallowed with a jeroboam and a great fishtail,

pummel the show that can’t go on under flurried lights

until white monuments casts us back on dry lands.

Walk the middle of district streets, heed martial command

until the eery quiet is broken by snow dampened

trumpets blowing for more snow near a closed turnpike.

Nature has undone the world of people but the song soon ends.

Paladins of peace enjoy this hush, look the old guard still stands!