a night kitchen

cup of tea held against
the cold from the door

Keep an eye on the mountains —

the only way to mark your progress under a gray sky.

watching the mountain
reflected in the window

Beyond the shadow
Sunlight shining through the street’s string of Christmas lights

handful of ink —
if I had such a thing —
dripping through my fingers

Spring cleaning:
throwing away handfuls of pens.

Do the neighbors know
that the bell ringing at midnight
is mine?