a light snow kicks around the wharf
the currrent of traffic sounds cuts the cold air
my tobacco pipe, the only natural light
againt cityscape’s purple-highlit darkness
Tag Archives: Snow
Day 38, 2024
1.
chance of snow
this Fool’s Spring
a dance a game
of hide and seek
my ear hears the water
wanting to rise
2.
no snow maybe thanks
to the old veteran dancing
the grapevine on the cobblestone wall
or the old black man
drinking beer wrapped in a paper bag
wondering if the water is still too cold to fish
Day 18, 2024
the world melts into a gray-brown soup
we track our primordial slush around on worn soles
bare-belted radials on tempermental cars
once paraded by European beauracrats
and American Beauty Queens
future eons are built up in sump pits
drained inevitably into the river
where all forgotten things go
free from the responsibility of memory