It snowed 
last night 
and the 
city lights 
bounce off
and into 
my window 
creating a 
heavenly glow 
around you 
as if
you are 
other worldly 
which of
course I 
already know 
you are 

I want to write 
about you but the 
memories were placed in
the attic in a 
box and going there 
to find them is
just too much work 
maybe just this the 
thought of writing about 
you will be enough 
for I hardly think 
that you even do 
that much for me 
since you never did 
in the first place 

Lamp blind cup
and curtain water 
cloth wash and 
brush lift crawl 
slide and cuddle 
arms hands hair
and cheek to 
think conjure create 
and write about 
this right now 

I find me
here in silence 
maybe the tick
from my watch 
reminding that time 
is slipping away 
like the drips
from the eaves 
icicles which started 
as snowflakes that 
began as ocean 
and became clouds 
all things go 
their own ways 
and the best 
we can hope 
is to see
them as their 
one thing once 
or another twice 

The night slips 
deeply into sleep 
darkness a veil
gauzy and thin
hides the lights 
making them blur
it might be 
my own sleep 
shadows of dreams 
difficult to shake 
a heaviness lumbers
and drags itself 
to the kitchen 
starting the kettle 
and then coffee 
which will snap 
like nights shade