At my desk with the window opened.
A gurgling brook is falling from the sky,
Prattling on the roof.
Mind flicking like the tail of a vexed squirrel.
There had been two feet of snow last winter,
The roof rake broke and I had to bear the weight alone.
Memories chittering and scampering.
A rent in the white satin fabric of winter,
Heart, a divot of exposed soil.
Green moss pressing its cheek against the ice glass
Clouds assist the night in swallowing day
Feverish and damp,
© M. G. Iannucci 2016
Photo: Poke weed flower in the rain