no rain
but cold grey I want to sleep
until
a house wren scrabbles at the window
I can’t imagine what she wants with me
no rain
but cold grey I want to sleep
until
a house wren scrabbles at the window
I can’t imagine what she wants with me
she’s here
a whirlwind light and fabulous then
she’s gone
how quiet the sound
of her dog’s wondering sigh
the road
is the same smoke white as
the sky
a girl in a flamingo hat says
“I think that bird is dead frozen”
doors
are frozen shut like the window
your phone voice
faraway and small I wonder if you
remembered gloves a warm hat
each thing I touch leaves
an imprint each thing
(trace them with your fingers)
what is past is present
in these two hands
these things I carry
echo from another room
this music
in a forgotten corner
your violin
I know snow before I look
outside
a soft white hush behind
the curtains
this morning tastes of tea
this year
that seemed so far away all those
years ago
hawk screams sun shines
I want to sleep a little longer
snow again
before the morning sun
my breath hangs
how will I know this last day
from the first?
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