through the window
he sees the loaders
ripping snowbanks
off the street
dumping them
onto huge trucks
just like his toys
at the beach
and he wonders
why they hunker here
in barren icy winter
and instead of in the warm
green grasses of summer
just across the river
a half hour away
wind winds snow around
slender wooden shaft
and tough handle
the shovel fades
and substantiates
and detensifies
in veils of white swirls
reality dances
shovel dreams
winds sing
awake
[a persona poem]
I have lived around you
like the shadow of a planet
never facing the sun
you are no sun no moon no planet
you brood in another room
avoiding time and space
bats stir in the walls
mapping night on their paper wings
you fear what I will never see
