Into Winter's face
Clomping through the snow
Everything's illuminated

"

"Her Moon"

Summer came, if slowly
and uneasy.

The cold nights passed. Restless
feet turned countlessly,
churning tangled sheets around my legs.

Does the poxed moon remember me,
the same way I remember her?
Frozen and pale,
barely able to crawl,
inch by inch, across
the lonely canvas

How then now
will this new sun
come to know my name?

.

I have to turn off my air conditioner.
--It's worked so hard
I can barely feel my fingertips.

heat sinks down from the ceiling
like a dead weight
And I call the machine back to life.

This time, a green sweater,
--the one I thought matched her eyes,
stretched across my back.