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.