Knees up
the door swung open
the trucks hauling logs
to the mills chase
traffic
the low highway
shifts crawling fast
from the release
of these lights

her fingers working
drawing a quick hand
down the face
the quick looks
shift shift
but she knows I tell
the knows
read the tells
and still
keep flicking the
sign
On and Off

I lean forward
turning the ring
over in my hands
like a coin
on the tips of
fingers like
a hurdle

in the cold spilling
in stirring the cigarettes
against the ceiling
shes restless
a show

Im always something
new in each
presentation
behind every door
were the ones
I left behind

Happy winter
behind the daft
eye

I could sit here
forever at this
station
no train is picking
me up
shes not leaving
town

I can see for miles
on the little ridge
of the bridge
hear the little voice
of the creek
rushing off
to meet its somewhere
while the roar
of the slush
presses much
on the slur of
the tires rush

gather then
the pack
the glisten
lips
the licking teeth
lurid whites
of eyes
and manes
tipped
a nostril gasp
of intake
sharp
held in rib cage
heart beat

a steadiness
a sun
four degrees
held in the cold
failing
towards
a night
awaiting

words soothe
nestled
settled

come to dream
come to weep
the weary
leap
from the tender
bank
to the wilds
steep
of limber
race
run rare

grey visions
in soot blue
shadows
of envy

...