i.
i jar spare change for my trip home.
it’s moved away from me recently,
it sleeps across concrete rivers now.

i jar my change for the ferryman,
he will recognize me soon.
i will make this migration often,
and soon he will wink at me when i come to sit in his boat-
he knows what’s pulling me down the river.

and when i come collapse
into your arms,
my weariness will melt away,
wicking away in the warmth of you.

and i’ll be home,
for a while.


ii.
ice clenched between my teeth
i pull away from you
ferryman doesn’t wink this time.
he knows how bitter it is.

iii.
my spare change tink-tinks into the bottom of my jar.

the cold on my skin
is worth it.

summer wouldn’t be as sweet without the snow.