The Night Boat

 

It’s snowing again this morning and I wonder, What is this sadness?  Yesterday, at the movies, it was a bald man sitting alone, eating popcorn and licking his fingers.   Looking at the mounting drifts, I think of rivers and my beloved who is dead. When evening comes, at what point will I turn on a light?  To be free of this house and its tedious requirements; to be on a boat, going forth into the dark world.       

 

too many

fallen hairs

in my new brush