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on days when
the land lies splayed
about me like
a pair of legs,
the water dripping
from the sky,
the hot penny
sun seems
like the distant
star it is.
cold and icy in
a sky that has
too much grey and
too little of the
consistent brown-blue
of smog.

sitting at the park,
by the lake,
in the rain,
with the land
to myself,
the ducks hidden
from view, their
sleek heads
tucked under
their wings.
i tuck my hands
into my coat
and hide my
bluing fingernails.
i hide the
rough bitten
edges and yet
the sun still
refuses to come out.