Coarse flakes cling to horses’ manes
like odalisques plumped on velvet:
sudden whiteness, too perfect to possess,
young beauties never knowing nakedness.
Beneath swirling fall, other joggers thin,
as hansom cabs on Park Lane South preen
to life. Hotels trickle shutterbugs
hungry for magic of carriage tracks
in The Park—last frost-laundered remembrance
of filthy metropolis, snatched before flight.
Under armor-colored skies, I push north
at Columbus Circle, slicing wind on cobble
and ice, stoked fresh by rare isolation.
Ahead, single line of warm footprints,
rapidly fading, weaves in and out
of shadow, connecting sugar cookies
of light at foot of old wrought iron lamps.
I bulldoze this ghostly wake with boyish
intensity, young Hannibal making fell moves
darkly, leaving no clues for morning.
like odalisques plumped on velvet:
sudden whiteness, too perfect to possess,
young beauties never knowing nakedness.
Beneath swirling fall, other joggers thin,
as hansom cabs on Park Lane South preen
to life. Hotels trickle shutterbugs
hungry for magic of carriage tracks
in The Park—last frost-laundered remembrance
of filthy metropolis, snatched before flight.
Under armor-colored skies, I push north
at Columbus Circle, slicing wind on cobble
and ice, stoked fresh by rare isolation.
Ahead, single line of warm footprints,
rapidly fading, weaves in and out
of shadow, connecting sugar cookies
of light at foot of old wrought iron lamps.
I bulldoze this ghostly wake with boyish
intensity, young Hannibal making fell moves
darkly, leaving no clues for morning.