Fingernails & Hair

I.

National weather news

reports heavy snow in Wisconsin.

I think about calling my father

in Whitewater

to find out how much has fallen,

but he’s dead,

ash now finer than snow.

II.

My hair’s a local legend:

Einstein, Beethoven, middle-aged afro.

When I found

my fingernails growing, too,

the conclusion I make

is I'm dead

flesh retreating,

no ash, no snow.