ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 3
2/26/08
I.
if I step outside for even a few minutes
I have to stick my hands in my pockets
if I want to stay out longer
I give my bootlaces an extra tug
and sit for a moment thinking
before I can make myself go
reading gets old there are no new
stews to invent ice that was once
a wonder now is nothing but trouble
burrowed into me an impatience grows
readier to emerge and be something else
II.
fox tracks first on the clean snow
the wind is stumbling and drops
a few flakes here and there
there is one way light glints off
unmarked snow and another glint
that comes off running water
I remarked to myself standing at
the edge of the stream that broke
free of its ice and began to move
again over its dark bed of gravel
between the two downy white banks
my footprints are there you can
see where I stood and how long