oO 2
Twelve black hairs on the rug stand Peer
over an orange rectangle
shot from the high basement window;
the light just misses the dresser’s feet.

       
   
   
         
       
       
       
     
     
   
   
   
   
      
  
 

The orange looks warm.
The same tone that paints last summer;
the sepia of old paar detapns.
. Squeezed, frozen smiles, finger tips in clear water
o
floating. Hands anchored to the bed’s cool wood, her
head's floating. The basement’s unfinished.
The white plaster and grey walls between wood
. pillars look blue.
oO
Memories of the day feel behind her, like
light shining in the corner of her eye, coming
from behind a wall, and projecting long
shadows of talking friends and bare tree branches.

Do
The daily desk calendar sits crooked
on the ripped days she keeps underneath it.
On the desk, a month old birthday card lies on its side
by a long lost camera's empty nylon case.

 

 

They echo the faucet she left on,
the drops that resound

in the deep

basement sink.

  

 

7 eo JOEC MACKENZIE! 0 © IGEUMKERENZIE! oD

Se ee

 

  
 
      
     

They call me
Mr.Frost, but | could
sure go for some
warm weather. Write

something to coax
the sun out of

>) Ne) eee ee

13