Friday, December 16, 2005


Is a relative term
A month ago I’d have said 35
was nearing the ice age
today it was a welcome change from
0…10…or even 20.

On the train by the river
It’s early…the mists have yet to clear
The calm, pale grey of the fog
The darker, angrier grey of the water
The tips of the whitecaps
The swirling greys as the mist meets the Hudson
The silhouettes of bare trees, black against the greys
The white of the remaining snow
turning grey and black in the rain
Quickly melting into the landscape
I once thought grey dreary
Lacking in colour
But its beauty is in its simplicity
in its starkness
Embrace the greyness, I have often said
And now I see why
Embrace it for the beauty within

Cheap, black down coat
Weighed down by the rain
For which it was not intended
I could have worn my raincoat
Who knew 35 would be this warm
Unbuttoning my coat
Taking off gloves
Cooling down the body
Yet still chilled when the body heat drops
After the walk

Good morning
From the bodega owner setting up
I’ve walked by his shop every morning this week
He finally speaks
And have a nice weekend
He calls after me
I turn, smile and wave

Remnants of the preparations
In anticipation of the strike that hasn’t yet happened
Police barricades
Stacked by major intersections last night
Gone this morning
Rail link busses at train stations in the Bronx
There last night
Gone this morning

The rugrat cheered her first ever game yesterday
I wanted to be there for her first one
But I was
On the train

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