Infinite Taiga

You’re already in it
And nobody in it

Ever gets out of it—
You might as well be one

Of the old believers
Who fled here on purpose

And makes clothes out of bark
And eats food without salt

And will not survive long
If the outside finds you—

The only way to leave
Is to vanish deeper

Into black-stick thickets
That fade into the snow

Then you’re gone to yourself
While the forest still grows