Slight hiss, as a canoe
Pulled back over grass
And the flakes
Widening where they slip
Into patio stones, that place
Dark as a small lake
Closing over at the edge of the yard.
Nights like this,
The necklace on the dresser
Pools there, glitters
Clean as the detail
Remembered in dreams, though still
It is a guilt gift
And glitters, and pools there
So the names, the faces
Drawn through names,
Rise in the night snow
Often and light the yard.
from Clean
Copyright © Persea Books 2011
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Persea Books.
