An inch of snow fell yesterday,
illumined the branches of trees,
erased curbstones, and covered the trash<\/p>\n\n\n\n
that blows through the park. Tonight
has lost its edges and joined
a thousand years of nights. A scent<\/p>\n\n\n\n
composed of leather and sweat
rises when I shoulder a door,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
wanting in, or maybe wanting out
of rain and wind, out of a vacancy
I\u2019ve learned to inhabit. Voices leak<\/p>\n\n\n\n
down the hall from a half-lit kitchen
where someone is frying onions. Maybe
also a bit of beef and something sweet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I slip out of wet shoes and enter
a dream past which is not<\/p>\n\n\n\n
only mine. The tale\u2019s more
than one family\u2019s wars, trials,
and steerage berths. This frozen night<\/p>\n\n\n\n
joins with other nights, the haunts
of a billion ragged dreamers,
selves adrift in a moving world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n