Dispatch #46

Other Surfaces

Other Surfaces

Snowplows vibrate the walls
and the water in a vase shakes: 
flowers that fail 
to fool my room away from winter 
sit on a speaker blaring news: 
panic sapped into fatigue. 
I follow the day 
through windows, shadows 
barring the floor; I track the season
by what’s stuck in sewer grates.
Today they’re under half a foot of snow.
I’m walking in it, hungover, hovering 
over a notebook to chisel a phrase. 
Sky’s gray grain gathering white. 
White enclosing white.
A clean and marginless page.