Falling catkins,
big, fluffy, blooming,
flakes spinning between branches,
dissolving in the lake
and on my frail smile

I was sipping the snow
with fresh soot on the sleeves,
walking like a soldier of lead,
wings of smoke on my shoulders,
eyes stung by the yellow light
from the attic’s window
over the street.
Someone was surely watching…
I began to run in circles
believing I could fly
with my fist clasped on a sunlight handlebar

Now the snow is colder,
the coffee pot sits on the window
avidly swallowing thick and rare snowflakes.
I think that maybe someone is watching,
the icy lake burns in my eyes,
I light up a cigarette
and hide the smoke with the curtains

Categories: My Poems in 2010 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

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