hum. sip. blink.
count the streetcars that pass.
somewhere in the city a baby cries,
where feathers ruffle over heat grates
a person homeless huddles also.

today falls nonchalant
all the windows shut.

wind says hurry, frost the trees.
oh. none here.
the traffic lights will have to do.
coat everything white and no one will know.
bring them home.

hum. sip. blink. slush.
i count them unspectacular:
two thousand for a second
with you.


DAY 25

Posted by:jasmine

Jasmine is an editor, poet, and community arts organizer. She comes to poetry by way of Chinese music. This blog is a mapping of ways.

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