The first snow has turned to rain in the rueful hours I have been watching it through the scarred and grimy panes give up and become water again and slide down my steps and puddle in the patio below I plead it is not yet time to begin the real winter but it is coming ringing in my bones why have I returned to this narrow place what sins to undo what heat to reimagine come down from the lofty peg you prescribe and play with the foxes in the perfect pink twilight Return to Provincetown, 2015/2025
Hiding Out