I don't need much
anyway. Maybe just
this morning, to walk out
among the smirking mud,
the purring bare branches,
the glad right angles
of brick and limestone
apartment buildings—
each one perfectly etched
in that promising kind
of light from the east
which causes you
to squint a little,
forcing a half-smile
while you inhale
the enigmatic air
of a not-quite-yet spring
and say to yourself
(and mean it
more than you don't) that
it's okay, because
you don't need much
anyway. At least
not right now—
maybe not
even today.