Aug 212011
 
Patchy frost that stuccoes the Styx,
The frost at my temples, both touch death

The way kisses confer fullness
Or how a cheek upon our cheek

Can suddenly give us the whole girl--
So I lean at autumn, the tree leans

Touched by frost's disfigurement.
I hunch into age's alpaca parka.

All afternoon the river stiffens,
All afternoon the river shoulders on 

Below, despite the stiff, the cold.
And the children slide by smiling.

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