Monday, January 17, 2011

a good day

woke up early but slept late
sweet almond in my mouth
from the bear claw that i ate.

deep snow-divots
carved by geared, metal steeds
warm hands, toes, and fingers
homesick clowns, mournful sounds
of an over-sized viola still lingers.
i need... i need...


but your socks don't have matches anymore.