early
BEE LB
my own cold startles me. the lake is green beneath me,
wild in the wind even as it snows.
the room keeps clawing up to 60, my eyes wet
in response to dry air. my body moves slowly, pinched
with frost. i didn’t used to mind.
now i’m something different. gulls are catching air,
letting it take them, lift their balanced bodies.
one hovers, steadying, then dropping. it catches
nothing. mostly frozen then. only
a few hours ago. sky is empty of birds now.
air heavy with silence. a patch of green
water glistens under the hint of sun.
i didn’t ask for this. did anyone?
grief lives in the room next to mine. no longer silent,
birdcall fills the air. it’s no warmer
but there is light. i knock on grief’s door
each time i have something to say.
sometimes, a response.
sometimes not.