Winter Coats

When I sit in the armchair
beneath the lamp’s small shade,
sometimes I feel how it might be

to almost float away— I listen
with half an ear to the talk
at the dining table,

the scrape of chairs in the TV
room above, the slam of a car door
in a neighboring driveway.

Outside, the night grows darker
and the moon prepares to rise.
What kind of sleep

does the body crave in winter?
We’ll all put on our heaviest
coats that fall

past our knees. We’ll wrap
our heads in scarves and cover
our ears. The banks

of the river are darker too
than plum, and all the boats
have come to rest at its hem.

 

In response to Via Negativa: Preparations.

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