The day rolls up in a long horizon line,
moon slips past the eye,
speaks now only in shimmering
and occasional murmurs caught
between thick high branches.…

As a child,
I’d pore through
old cartons of letters,
trunks overstuffed with china dolls
and wedding dresses.

I could only...			
					

My wife and I walk slowly,/not just because of the ice./We’re praying for that pace that never gets us there.…