Thursday, January 20, 2011

Poems Like Winter: 4

In Winter
At four o’clock it’s dark.
Today, looking out through dusk
at three gray women in stretch slacks   
chatting in front of the post office,   
their steps left and right and back
like some quick folk dance of kindness,   
I remembered the winter we spent   
crying in each other’s laps.
What could you be thinking at this moment?   
How lovely and strange the gangly spines   
of trees against a thickening sky
as you drive from the library
humming off-key? Or are you smiling   
at an idea met in a book
the way you smiled with your whole body   
the first night we talked?
I was so sure my love of you was perfect,   
and the light today
reminded me of the winter you drove home   
each day in the dark at four o’clock   
and would come into my study to kiss me   
despite mistake after mistake after mistake.

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