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The broad-shouldered scout squats – portable radar squared away beneath a ripped, rumpled poncho – fresh snow bunched in his eyebrows.
It’s got something of the Batrachomyomachia about it (also referenced in the only podcast episode I’ve ever uploaded to Substack) and emerged from my wanting to do something with a bunch of tiny poems I’d written for Christmas cards some years back. (Long-term readers will recall that Unravelanche also started as Christmas card poems). Since I’m still working on it, and since I’m nearly at the bottom of the bag in terms of previously published ice-themed poems, I thought I’d use the advent calendar as an excuse to add one more soldier to the crew.
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