Snow

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Clarity;

I want 

clarity of language

not speaking in tongues

no jawing jawing

about God.

I want a job.

I want a job

that pays a living wage.

I want

to understand 

what I need to understand

to get along

without much effort

just enough.

I want poetry

poetry

that enters my soul

like the sweet scent

of cinnamon danish

warm from the oven.

I want to see

an autumn day's

slanting light

as it plays among

the dying leaves

like flashing flagship

semiphore

from a sinking ship.

I want a signal.

I want a ruler

that measures

what matters 

like distance we feel

from each other.

I want to listen

and hear

and here

and now.

I want time.

I want to know

and not to know

and to be ok

with the coming snow

I want the clarity of snow

it’s already getting cold

and I’m not ready.