1 New Poem

White Tulips

Muck-gray and silence outside,
sleet sheets washing down concrete
places we stood in time to street corner
symphonies now quiet.

You took the water, filled plastic
cups and spun to catch light
in tangles of hair (falling frames
around half-moon smile).

I took your hand and
pressed to cheek, feeling
a world’s wonder warmth beneath
old, battered visage.

The day beyond, stretched out
as lazing animals in separation
again, we were dreaming
of bleached flowers

And the spring dawn.