I walk thru snowy woods
thinking of you up there in the trees,
roosting with the birds and other night things.
I think of fire; how we sat
passing cigarettes and whiskey,
our ice-breath rising with the smoke.
There is this distance that exists between
us like a dark river I’m not sure how
to cross. I leave a trail of crumbs and ribbons.
I scorch the sky with your name.
A screech owl calls to the lonely night
— I hear no answer.
Crumbs
Snow gathers under the trees as a memory of fire and smoke returns.
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