Three Variations


Since I bought the winter greens my sleep has been better.
But upon waking, the seventh-story window,
uncurtained, disoriented me with concrete
and open air–and the greens had frosted in the fridge.


On weekday mornings I avoid others,
face work with fresh spite;
lend my richest mind to receipts,
the shopping list, and small change.


When my father went out in the waning hours
of bitter winters to bring us to our mother
and then return alone to his house, he always
left a light on to welcome himself home.

October 15, 2023