Sunday, March 14, 2004


friends drop by,
cloudy breath beneath itchy scarves,
bottles of schnapps in hand.
a low hum quickens, of people jumbling conversation and liquor,
tongues thick with drink and sleep.
strands of christmas lights burn coldly outside,
as orphaned cups accumulate on tables, counters, the floor.
bottles empty and the crowd thins by twos and threes.
the windowpanes blur and grow dark.
climbing the hundred year-old stairs to my room,
the wood groans.

-winter, 2000.


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