January 2018 – Page 3

almost a month now-
how can I still be finding
crumbs in our bed
–
fresh coffee-
your side of the bed
is still warm

boots in the water
my line slack on the surface
suddenly pulled taut
–
low morning light-
steam rises
off the lake

rooted to the ground
frozen, my mind replaying
one moment in time
–
blinding sun-
the city street
unnaturally quiet

icy drops of rain
slide past my ear and linger
down along my chin
–
parking-
raInbows slide
towards the drain

breathless in the rain-
the greyhound bus pulls away
but you’re not on it
–
a cold rain-
my forehead
on the window

standing behind you
the center of attention
almost out of view
–
ill wind-
spiders repair
their broken webs

sitting on my couch
not sure if I can get up
after shoveling
–
rabbit tracks-
a snowy owl
motionless

daydreaming with the
people in the windows of
oncoming traffic
–
pigeons-
walking through
an outdoor cafe

feeling impotent
my head full of words but I’m
unable to speak
–
snow fall-
staring out my
hospital window

champagne glass in hand-
ignoring the obvious
we toast our future
–
midnight sun-
a polar bear prowls
the city streets