Cold Coffee Chronicles

We watched splinters shiver

Towards the sun, perched

Like juniper berries thirsting heat.

“Even the birds are confused”, I said.

Perhaps I should exchange flowers

Or myself there,

But its easier to blame

The bird-brained for

My own uncertainty. 

I am finite

So unlike

The sunlight gleaming

On a raven’s feathers. Unfettered,

Our cilia dance like wheat-grass

Thawing in abnormal January

Warmth.