Friday, April 25, 2008

This Summer

Do not look
in the direction of my desk,
why the cold has filled the gap.

You will not find traces
of the chill
descending on my skin

only an empty table-
phone, pad, and pen
removed;

the rest I stowed
inside a metal cabinet,
away from this shivering air.

May the summer wind
breathe on the windows,
dispel this air

and let me count
the things our cold weather
let remain.

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