Shops close while a storm front
     is moving in
and my eyes adjust to night.
Last fool who's out walking
and I guess I dressed a little light

Late winter flakes streaking
a dirty wash of tracers,
                          grey on grey
Silhouette of five fingers
in streetlights cast as they're grasping
                                    at door frames

Still holding out. Your distance
  reaches out across miles
           it strikes me blind.
Now listen up--I've been whispering,
"One more shot's all I ask;
          my aim's alright."

A laundry list of dead actions
fills up a page, it's sour in your mouth
I've been living scratched off in the margins
Take your time, we've got all Spring to thaw out.

Orange light through bay windows
               is spilling out
in a citrus wash on snow.
Street you live on a memory
913, left turn off Bird's Hill Road

I bet that it's warm there
though the frost covers window
                                       panes outside
And today I remember
the way your laughter thawed out my
                                            frozen sights

Still holding out. Your distance
       reaches out across miles
                  it strikes me blind
Now fessing up to bad reasons
One more turn of the season
                         you'll be fine.

I guess I missed the benediction;
bless your heart, cross my best wishes out.
So let's fill this page with better diction--
Syntax sorted, we'll just talk ourselves down.