The Timeless Taste of Ginger

He climbs trees
falls like the leaves
crisp and careless
He gathers snow from the heavens
and sets it at our feet
and takes root in my home
in my sanctuary
and while the pitiless gold hem
of his mund and handiwork
 of his juba illuminate chains of pearls and rose petals
that adorn the hallway
Will that shroud the coconut liquor breath
my children have come to gnaw on?