by sean s
Over my shoulder the hard banks of snow squeeze
the rush of cars and trucks as tight as blue corpuscles.
The sidewalks are ice shambles.
The envelope of Jenifer quiet starts only
a few steps from Williamson.
I lick the gum and slip myself through
the mail slot of K's house.
After hot cocoa she smacks her lips deliciously.
Pulls the curtains open to let the sunlight in
starting bright off the snow.
Tuesday poem #108 : Jon Boisvert : DESCENDING
48 minutes ago