Stephen Fuller *** Poetry, Essays

Freeze, a poem

Relents, at last. 
So many cold days.
So many colder nights.

The spigot wrapped
In a maroon hand towel
To keep from freezing.

Relented, the air melts into a wind
That at once chills still needy bones
Then warms the man standing

His gaze aloft towards the moon
Higher in the sky than ever before
Readying the pull of his shore

Into what he ground into countless
Grains of silica stuck to wet souls
Of feet. Like irony licking his toes

With sea foam. He closes his eyes,
He closes them. Knowing behind his
Lids, he’ll find what night melted for.

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