Wednesday, January 01, 2014

Spectacle

The sky is a spectacle, but i am looking down

Down to snow made creamy by the sun

The sun that warmed the stalks that melted holes

Holes for the breathing mice and the voles

And the moles and the creatures i think little about

 Little about their lives under snow, looking down

Looking down, me with my head in the sky.



The thousand tiny rapid hearts, do they ache?