253

Awake for a little bit
a period of time
when I think it’s fall
when shadows flutter
on my porch like wings.

and only then do I miss
winter
clothes wet from snow
in a pile
as if we made a
testament to the day.

I only hear traffic
and the clatter of
the air conditioner
and I say,
don’t I know you?

the companions I see
are furniture which move
about when I grow tired
and give them life.