3:51 am: Looking ahead to winter

We know,the tree trunks by the
road are unbecoming
and their malaise
is a prisoner's refuge,to behold
but all i am able to send
you is a word,to push through
like faint imprints
of your head,still visible
on the bedroom window

We know,you are not in there
not even in the backyard
buried under several
feet of snow,but is it the dog?
We don't know that for sure
but all i am able to send
you is a word,to push through
like the unclean windshield
of the car,having endured
the best days of your sweater

We know you did not leave
my sock in the water tub,
my shirts on the back of the chair
or my underwear under the pillow
but all i am still able to send
you is a word,to push through
like a sea quake,you met alone
breaking against your feet,
in middle of the night

We know,it is no surprise,
the cleverness in your absence
is shaped by your hand
and,shaped like a beginning
but all i am able to send
you is a word,to push through
like a loosely tucked
anniversary card at the
bottom of the closet

We know you had been eying
winter,through the glass of
unaccountable change,a piece of glass
that put my reasoning to death
We know that for sure
but all i am able to send
you is a word,to push through
like an elegy handed behind the back
of the man who cried the most
at this funeral of the year going by