January 19

Think of a cardinal
and I think of snow

the natural background
for that berry of a bird

on a card you gave me
once that you pasted

in a book so what
if it was summer

when we watched one
one last time

the leather on the
chair was cracked

it was auburn it was
orange it was afternoon

and memories are nothing
more than fabrications

built to furnish
emptying rooms

and there must be a statute
of limitation on grief

as to try and touch
them now leaves

my traces in the dust
a quick erasure

of a slow process
but a bird remembered

is never just a bird
the house is gone now

the estate sale held
and how else

could I carry it all
along except

by thinking wings
by thinking wings

of shocking red
to keep you in sight

against the bleak
erasures of winter

and of time.

OPTIONAL POETRY