Poems December 2018

The Winter Me

By winter I will be quiet and silent as snow coming down in an empty lot behind an empty house
Going about my doings
A slave to my habits
In a space yet not occupying any of it
Never in the way such that amnesia sets in
Where the floor creaks or you feel a draft like something passed you at a run
In the newspaper
In a few words I might have said

December 8, 2018