Sunday, November 30, 2014

Chihuly Glass at Night

the reds and yellows 
were cold, shining under starlight,
we were bundled so thick we could hardly walk
with big-boy pants and long underwear, 
double gloves and scarves that warmed our breath,
his down coat, my fake leather lined with fur
we were warm under starlight so we
could stop to admire yellows and reds,
then walk in the dark of starlight amongst
the hollow branches of the dead, the 
plants that bloom no more, merely waiting
for spring to come back, more glorious
even than yellow and reds shining in
starlight, in the cold, we are bundled so
cold, we can hardly walk.

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