Off-road, half-drunk, knee-deep
in ermine he doubled over,
took his fill of liquid
heaves, stalls and kick-starts,
laid him down
in towny white, his fail
a leaden night, then left me
in the gully by the tree line.
First his flare spilled over
the hill, then his sound,
till unfound I stood alone
by the oil spot the engine left.
Above, around, a sonogram
of stars-that quiet, moony
otherworld of clotted almost-light.
Again needing it against me,
I stand tonight
at the dark window
in this winter of dwindling
snow, where snow like an undue gift
returns dampered the bent
world, her body still and tumorless.
A Memory of Snow by Danielle Pieratti | Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser
$15.00Price
