The world iced, every inch glistening in the sun.
Zigzag tracks of our house cat that has walked away.
Across the bay, a tanker moves at a glacier’s pace.
V is talking — the garage door pasted shut,
my eye straying to those lights, frozen droplets
in the branches — champagne.
If I didn’t have myself, where would I be?
A moment deep and wide for drinking.
V is talking-the garage door pasted shut.
love it.
As my mother used to say, “Another country heard from!” I do like his voice breaking in there — what took so long? Thanks, Louis!