We beat back the long grey clouds stretching out

coating the tops of our skyscraper world

and put down hard blankets of the deep chill

reaching through the flat-light afternoons to earth.

*

Long hours long nights long roads long horizons

November-February skies mix

together into mate tombstone paintings

until time strips away mistakes in paint.

*

coats put down for the darker times buckle

under the weight of the calendar wind

long days, long songs, long lights come pouring in

*

Spring drenched sirens come to call away grey

birds pull back winter curtains from rooftops

and we throw up the blue-stained skies again