I do not want to go

I do not want to go,
though it is very late.
(The sky is threatening snow.)
I do not mind the wait

for taxi cab or train,
I do not mind the ride,
but still I linger, I remain --
you press against my side,

to hurry or to stay
I do not know. But this
brief warmth I know I want,
this tender furtive kiss

(a tiny fire that yields a moment's heat),
your touch through glove and sleeve:
Oh! Let us wander still these empty streets!
I do not want to leave.

The girl

The girl splits an orange skin with her fingernail

breaking the rind in pieces as she goes –

slowly the globe emerges. It sheds its clothes

of glowing ember on the ground, grandly.

She scatters them around, caring less

to rid herself of its thick, unwanted flesh

than to surround herself

with brightly fallen snow.

*

Her own flower girl, she strews

her train behind her as she walks. She paves

a trail of brilliant cobbles, fallen from her hand,

and weaves a scented nest. In this, she stops and stands

and eats each segment slowly,

piece by separate piece.

This is just to say

When you gave me

the blackberry

from the top

of your slice of cheesecake --

the only one,

the one you wanted --

because I asked,

then I knew

I would give you

all the blackberries,

raspberries,

all the peaches, pears,

plums --

a refrigerator full.

I knew

I would save them

for you,

for your breakfast.

Observation #1

Masculine rhyme hulks and bullies, but at least you can keep an eye on it.

Feminine rhyme speaks out of the corners of its mouth, and trails off at the end of its sentences. You sign the contract without reading the fine print.

Intersection

Momentary partners in perspective,

the near hawk and the distant plane,

angling,

touched tails as they crossed --

each aimed toward the other's corner of the sky.