the homeless dog follows you
because you feed him.
like a straw through the yogurt bag
suck it all out
red pulls on a train of snow
empty the house of people
a vacant car
with a pile of nothing
a grove of middle-aged trees
stand losing their hair
the very last word
was buried last winter.
From water to mud, the goldfish dulls,
sinks to home in a long winter's journey.
The river soft, runs through my hand.
Sounding whispers, time turns gentle.
