what if you had a grandfather
you’d never met living
on the Arctic tundra

what if he was woken
by hundreds of trees
moving in lines towards his hut

what if those trees
smothered the lichen and moss
he fed wild deer

what if he saw
a rare white reindeer
running through the birches
and thought of you

what if he decided to use
the last days of ice to gather
the smoothest cleanest samples
and carve you a deer

what if he carried that deer
through ankle-high puddles
where once he’d captained ships

what if he knocked at your door
nothing of the ocean
nothing of the deer
nothing in his arms

when you opened them