Now That the Weather Has Turned by Tracy K. Smith

Ice cakes the ground. We break
Into something with every careful step.

Nothing disappears. Only hovers and thins.
Whoever we were months ago is colder.

Someone writes to say I bear down upon him
Like a wet coat. Just these lines.

Once, I wanted everything to come to me at once.
A house converged upon by headlights. A door

Muscled open by strangers, distant cousins,
Uniforms and stenciled badges.

When they came, I let them in, gesturing
Toward the comfortable chair, crisp sheets.

Now I finger the smooth objects forgotten
By I don’t know whom. They tremble

Like eggs in a shallow drawer.


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