The clouds and the sky,
The rocks, the earth, the flowers,
Congenial mask
Blocks genuine connection:
Immersed in Kafka’s world.
Crisp December first,
Soul having flown suddenly
From the still badger.
Cranberry orange
Baking as winter rain pours;
Licking the batter.
Fear, love – how can they
Exist side by side, like two
Who are close as breath?
Only the distant
November neighborhood sounds
Break into silence.