Scratched Glass  

beforethemast 63M
4 posts
4/3/2006 11:36 am
Scratched Glass

i am glad
i am not a barber.

It would take me days
to trim the snow
laden moustache

off the spruce
staring in
my study window.

I miss that window,
with a few scratches
in one corner where
a cat may have once
clawed to get out

That window
had this nasty habit
of pushing me out the door,

to deep snow
that i have tread through
to reach stacked
fire wood between
trunks of living trees.

And the lake just beyond,
not much more than a
spruce's arms length away
would pull me even further

How many times have i launched
a expedition on two skinny ships
with only two oars between them.

I remember the time
the powder was so deep
each bouncy step was
like jumping on my old cold

or the time
the ice had just
lost its grip on the shore
and so i launched a single
ship to hear the ice chime
its own church bells
for its own death.

I am not a barber
seeking to trim memories
or snow laden mustouches.

I am a ghost
stepping through
my study glass window
with scratches on one corner.

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