My winter skin
…and I’ve been sleeping on my heels lately
rocking into and out of the great big cradle
I’ve been staring at the sky with my mouth wide
open and thanking it for astounding me
Thank you wicked crooked black trees
and you cold teeth spitting through
my winter skin–The one I love is
confused like our Black River below
its maps of sewage ice
Those waves never surrender themselves
against any breaker walls or beaches
now–I sleep amid their tense infinite
glazes–I make these beautiful airtight
bottles in which we pour green light
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One Response to “My winter skin”
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July 16th, 2008 at 10:57 pm
lovely. sleeping on heels, thanking the sky for astounding, confused beloved, sewage ice, intense infinite glazes. Builds to a passively distressing containment of beloved.