Orion and wintertime.

Echoing again and again. Madison, WI. Winter 2011.

We used to buy secondhand flannel
the shirts that kept you warm
under a couple blankets,
sleeping, twos, threes,
on air-mattresses.
There were bats
//
at night, only when we slept.
We chased them away
easily with brooms.
//
Now, catch me standing, staring,
the south-east sky
at Orion and wintertime.
//
Forming obtuse sculptures,
conversation pieces
to fill the silence.
Everything was art, cockeyed.
Close your mouth,
look at the lights.
//
Someone, grasping shoulders,
“Miracles are real;
miracles happen.”
Stretch this, bend that,
suddenly someone laughs,
and there you have it.

Obscure Orion. Madison, WI. Winter 2011.