Day 63
metal hulls dance, bump on winter waves
like old lovers at a class reunion
the wind acts bow and rosin
against the lines, they sing
Day 64
it’s lonely without the nightwalkers
they do not show themselves to me
spring is on the heel
but not yet splashed in the sunrise
and there is talk of what’s coming
though no one listens
Day 65
the air kissed
with a renewed sun
roaming herds of joggers,
placard wearing tourists
the momentum of the season
building: listen to the boiler burn
deep in the soul machine
