Winter on East 90th Street
Buried in disappointment I set out to trace those wanton steps,
their outlines white on white, no tea leaves left in a cup..
Crisscrossed traces staining, weaving patterns, losing track.
Winter staggering, weighted with hopes, insides icing over.
But it was only yesterday! My honeyed heart! Dripping and sunny!
Pulling summer apples from the nourished air,
soaking up love from life like a wick.
How could I misplace that happy glue that spackled up my soul?
Where is the relentless sap that limbers up these stiffened winter limbs?
My mind can see a thousand years, why can’t I see around that corner?
their outlines white on white, no tea leaves left in a cup..
Crisscrossed traces staining, weaving patterns, losing track.
Winter staggering, weighted with hopes, insides icing over.
But it was only yesterday! My honeyed heart! Dripping and sunny!
Pulling summer apples from the nourished air,
soaking up love from life like a wick.
How could I misplace that happy glue that spackled up my soul?
Where is the relentless sap that limbers up these stiffened winter limbs?
My mind can see a thousand years, why can’t I see around that corner?
On East 90th Street, looking West |
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