The back alley becomes
a graveyard
for worn couches.

Nine degrees
doesn’t feel too bad
if I stay away

from bridges and river
banks. Icicles formed
unnaturally still remain

on bare tree branches
in the yard
where firefighters fought

and lost
a year-end battle. A raging one,
it took down

a 100-year-old multiplex
home with pillars.
How can I leave you behind

in a year so scorched?
Give me a sign

that your spirit has made it
through wind chill to now.