A 2nd daily poem for January 8, 2010.

Ran out of time last night. (Don't let Heidegger hear me way that!) Here's what I wrote yesterday.

Entering

not sunlight, just
(a word we hardly ever use in poems)
snow gleam lifted by lamps in windows
from the yard up to a lesser dark
above the fields where perhaps
(that word we often use in poems but not in life)
a half dozen geese flap into the open water
in Howland Pond I am in the kitchen rinsing
a glass my reflection on the glass
a part of that other scene of resettling
wings over my forehead below the red valance
then off my right breast collage
of field kitchen and the ersatz palms
that pretend to sway on the chintz
every day we say maybe
if
but
no every day
without meaning to we
yes