1/31/09: Optics

The reflected sun

is a tiny flame drilling

through sidewalk ice.

1/30/09: Thinking of Spring

Streetlights throw shadows

like petals from my feet—I

walk home in flower.

What I thought was fog

was snow-crowded air falling,

burying my tracks.

That one thousand mile

trip starting with one step can

end anytime now.

Eyes open, waiting

for the alarm’s sting to spur

me to move again.

A clementine sits

on the table’s horizon

before sunrise.

Passing windows lit

against the darkness—TVs

on in every one.