Monday, December 14, 2020


There's a graceful
way, this time 
of year, 

that the bare branches bend 
with each sharp sprig
of wind—

and are coaxed 
even more so
by snow's repetitious angles

and the permanence of evening 
to bow slightly 

which may make you feel like 
letting things be 

just as I begin,
temporarily, to reexamine 

my usual ploy
to gain pity.