On the Road
as I turn, each yellowed page
breaks free

foghorns . . .
the ginkgo’s last leaves
fall with the snow

winter commute
the train’s momentum
in the small of my back

filtered through pine
the pygmy owl’s staccato —
flecks of moonlight

winter night
I sip ginger tea
from my sister’s cup

        cold snap
hotdog vendor dancing
    to warm his feet

first snow
one child
wakes the others

New Year’s Eve
the old janitor
wrings out his mop

New Year’s Eve
one side of the mare
dusted with snow

Orion overhead
our last kiss of the year
is the first of the next