My poem: apricity

[stonepicnicking_okapi]

apricity by okapi

Crunching snow under cracked-sole boots,
I go. Pink sleeping child and silver birthday
balloons cross my path. Cold air

burns the good burn. Desiccated browns
slice through the flat white and dull grey
like split ends turned upwards for inspection

or pruning. Ribbons of tracks overlap
and intersect in imprecise and
improbable journeys. ‘But the woodducks

have nowhere to go!’ The puppy in red cable wool
is also amused. Or confused.
Fat geese parade, bumptiously unstuck.

The frozen lake is beautiful in winter.
Plump feather balls alternately pose
and shun the camera’s eye.

But I am thinking of tiny pink coats and
shiny balloons and how, were I homeless,
I could live in that unnaturally warm restroom.