what happens when it’s too cold to rain

Refrigerator of night vibrates us citizens
into a dreamy sleep. We project papers
and day problems creased with knuckle lines
crushing into our cheeks.
There are no stars tonight.
Instead we expect snow;
silence of a love held close
like a well learned name
or a clean footprint in shadows;
covers all else like a curtain,
finds even the most bright thumbprint
imperceptible, and yet
telephone poles have enough age
to stick a common shape through,
our eyes feast on the cardinals
marring some snow, they must eat
And so must we, reaching the refrigerator,
reaching the strawberries in clear plastic,
reaching the leftover pizza and seeing the world,
outside white and gray.
A bird flaps
and sparkles
into the trees.


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