It is here

in the present noon of a summer sky –

that distant hollow grate of mid- January,

the sometimes car tires eating road gravel–

an engine crawling towards a suburban house

with a woman washing dishes through a window with white curtains-

the blue glow of a tv screen on a wall,

glare of fluorescents over the kitchen sink ,

lighting up chrome and a beige tile floor

the edges of newly dyed hair

–a garage door rattles open. .

she lifts her head and sighs

all things come undone

as they did the day before, as they will tomorrow

the porch light spreads gold sheen

on the first step,

on the frozen ground, that this much as I know

twists a thread in some other season so much before

as ever and all afternoons follow and precede,

chaff in the plains of existence

we are and they are and all things

in between the grave to be

inextricably tied

the steaming, flesh -cotton breath in metal air

walking to a door, entering

a blue carpeted room

a man disappearing