I stretch into tree pose,
reach for the short light
as I try to grow in what feels like
the wrong season. A saran-wrap sky
drips my breath back
to my feet. The sound of my own
muffled inspiration lullabies
my dreams. Beyond a pane of glass,
the outside world is gray
and blanketed in winter. The cold
is lonely. It presses against
the patch of dirt I call home.
I can't imagine what it would be
like to see a world of growth, a world
of beings greening together
rather than being frozen out.
I've heard the beaten down grasses
once tangled upward toward a goal
of freely giving oxygen to everyone.
Where did those days go?
The vinca potted next door
stretches to rest a leafy-thin limb
against the curve of my worldview
and reminds me I am not
the only one trying to grow
in these strange times.

Katrina Serwe started poemwalking after a delightful midlife crisis. She published a chapbook, First Steps (Brain Mill Press, 2025) and a full-length collection, A Thousand Miles of Poetry (WWA Press, April 2026) both comprised of poems foraged on Wisconsin’s Ice Age Trail. You can follow her journey at KatrinaSerwe.com.