this is the second

this is the second

full day of mist

last week’s snow under

thickening ice

ashes float       flicker in

the light like snowflakes

this is the time to bear

your body’s stillness

the crows overhead

are barely visible.

Ellen

yes I miss

her       one

I can’t ever

reclaim

            lost

to our

dimensions

of regret

and blame

so soft

your eyes

and breast

clearly there

had to

be fault

            clearly

a loss in

pressure.

DIA Beacon

in this house

that was once

some sort

of processing

operation

            is still

some sort

of cannery.