cigaretting up
on the fire escape
it’s january first.

renter’s insurance
our names
in ink
in target with a big red
shopping cart and furniture
folded up, undone
driving home lost
familiarity a gift
quiet
now just me and darling
the cat now
for a little
while

shoveling snow
is a lot of work
and there’s one paperwhite
bloom
in the window

walking through town
rosy coat to knees
up high right
on congress
local sprouts a house
mug a buck
twenty five across
the street a general store
i liked,
memory isolated –
soon went out
of business
after
that day i went in
looking for a screwdriver.

snow and sidewalks
made of red
bricks. napping not
knowing how
to get started
staring at new pale
walls fumbling
forgetting
things