Tag Archives: winter

to tread

our traffic follows wakes: it would seem you

weigh out your steps with afterthoughts and

the spaces left fill nonetheless

 

the turning of snow shows: we wish

to walk without leaving tracks behind

until the days we were are not

 

yet still we don’t erase regardless:

clues are scattered, the paving bends before

memories of spring arise unbidden


for the days

This year scenes were little but slowly shattered plates

thirsting for attention amidst the ersatz of the months –

left behind a wake: empty glasses make me wonder

why a collection, a memory hardens – maybe we

soon see petrified strata in the sky

maybe we already do. I quickly box it in to find

 

these kneejoints still spit themselves as chipped glass

pushing a body through coughing births and

separating waters as they pass: my elbow looks

familiar once as it crosses what was my face –

soon we’ll see the livid form

or glass turning, or something. To notice, all, enough