Oneida

his torso spasmed, his diaphragm

tossing his trunk out of rhythm.

he sighed, rolled limply

onto his side, then back. She rolled

towards him, the look

that she gave, so still

full of love for him—

for every night under covers,

lit in electronic alarm clock red,

imitating silverware, hoping

for dreams of snowfall, sledding,

mugs of hot cocoa and a county-wide

shortage of snow-plows and rock salt.