Winter leaves an ache
in the middle of the body
Radiates into a yellow-hazy night
bent limbs on bare trees
Want to race across the wide span
of a baseball field at full speed but
a gaggle of geese slumber on the path
sun will be up soon.
A hawk’s call arcs
through the ether
Sewer rats skim
the edges of shadows
Murky waters do not ripple
but gurgle
as a thin wind
glides across the surface.
This is what it means
to disappear
to sit on a ledge
and watch the dawn
pierce the skyline
Listen to the distant
traffic rumble
and waking echoes
of stirring lives.
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