Two Elements (1994)
AIR
Know it or not,
the air is changing. Every day,
November winds, street-sweepers and dirt diggers
heave debris in the air.
and it gets between your teeth and in your hair
and under your skin until you want to scrub your skin with a brush
but there's no hot water in the shower when you get to your room.
This rush of cold air revs-up the nimble street ballet:
the bicycles, busses, pedestrians, cars and trucks,
all urgent to avoid each other
and somehow get through it to where they're going,
so they can sit down and pour tea into bottles
and drink it and read about nothing in the newspapers
and forget that outside the air is changing.
SNOW
Twice this week it snowed.
Never mind wet feet and splash marks up to your knees,
and bikeriding on slick streets
and daredevil left turns
against traffic that's more haphazard than ever.
It's beautiful living inside this scene.
Like those little plastic bulbs that you shake,
the snow rising, erasing drabness on grey roof and gutter,
throwing plans and expectations to the wind.
An ancient city of emperors wears new clothes.
Michael Primont
mprimont@msn.com