december fourth, two-thousand and one

DECEMBER FOURTH, TWO-THOUSAND AND ONE

DONE WITH MY STUDIES I HEAD OUT FOR A SMOKE
WERE YOU HERE
I WOULD WAKE YOU
I DON MY WOOL COAT
FLIP UP THE COLLAR
MY BLUE JEANS CUFFED
I BECOME A JAMES DEAN
OF MY OWN IMAGINATION
THE STREET BECKONS
MY STREET
NOT SO LONG AGO
BATHED IN A HUMID SUMMER RAIN
NOW BLANKETED IN SNOW
ITS ABOVE FREEZING
BARELY
I HEAR WATER TRICKLING EVERYWHERE
ONLY ONE BLOCK AWAY
STREET LIGHTS BECOME BARELY VISIBLE
CLOAKED IN FOG
I INHALE
SMOKE SEEPS FROM MY MOUTH
TO BECOME ONE WITH THE MIST
I HEAR A MUFFLED SOUND OF MUSIC FROM ONE
CHRISTMAS LIGHTS GLOW FROM ANOTHER
I PASS AN ELDERLY WOMAN IN A WINDOW
LOOKING OVER PAPERS ON A TABLE
I WALK ON
I ETCH BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOSGRAPHS
ONTO THE WALLS OF MY MIND
ANSELM
AQUINAS
HILDEGARD
AND THEIR EXISTENCE OF GOD
KEEP ME COMPANY
I TURN
AGAIN I PASS THE ELDERLY WOMAN
HER HEAD STILL DOWN
UNAWARE OF THE BEAUTY
OF REVELATION
THAT SHROUDS HER HOME THIS EVENING