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
