I stepped outside,
Felt the slap of winter’s
Icy breath
And stood beneath
The rain-soaked pines
Drops dripped
I looked up, fists clenched
And felt a wet ceiling above
A great ice wall betwixt me
And the sky
Unleashing and spitting upon me
Drops dripped
The Lord had taken my joy
I said
Had swept my feet from under
Like a scythe at harvest
My precious things in their
Full bloom,
Their life and blood on the earth
Drops dripped
4
I fell silent as we stepped off the pavement, out of the cold, and into the chip shop. I wrinkled my nose as feeling returned to it, inhaling the delicious smell of salt and vinegar. We crossed the black-and-white-checkered floor between the rows of two booths on each side.
In I way, I think our order of coping chips was to stall the actual coping. Even the much-pierced girl behind the counter must have sensed the discomfort between us.
1
Do you see that man walking down the street? No, the other one, from whom your eyes naturally pull away. Hard to focus on, isn’t he?
night of 11/2/2010
