friday, december 7

i should still be at my desk, but instead
i'm out in the yard in work boots, sweatpants,
and a chore coat, fucking with the christmas lights
while there's still enough daylight left to see

i've got a strand across the top of the house
one on the bushes out front
one in the apple tree

there's a snow-melt haze over the foothills
as the sun reaches that boundary zone
between clouds and horizon

breathing the cold air, moving around on grass
and gravel, fighting with the trees
i'm aware again that i waste
the better part of my time