Dressed in a bundle of shivers,
dissolving winter with your name.
Your wooden sled is canonized
this December day as Saint
Kill a Need. On an anagram
of arrangements: a picnic of cocoa
and soup. We lie like icicles below
cardinals that never looked redder.
Stirring your letters in a woolen hat
with a twig, I find a saintly killer,
absolver of need for redress.