Ravens scatter outside my pain.
A throw of die against the winters
First snow and the window needs cleaning,
Maybe later. The running glass
Is watery and after I make love
With you, I wake to the severing light
That is always silent. The phone
Does not ring, as my cat has told me
Many times, let us play she says,
The way it used to be under
The red wood beams on the hard wood
Floors, you would cry in that vacancy.
Though we lived in a one bedroom
Unfurnished, I called it a dance hall
And we danced silly tangos. I tried
To lift you then, but now outside
My window, ravens dervish and never
Fly in formation, under blue mountain.