by Melissa Bull
Plastic strips sluice up and down December beams
string against the white parchment
the mismatched chairs the buckwheat pancakes
while blinds stripe light
on white and whiter white.
It is too cold for snow.
The day’s low sun feeds pale
slights through blinds in ribbons stripes
the cold apartment the mismatched chairs.
To lie along the floor and warm
with pairs or plaited lights
to colour pairs to dapple cooler white
to curl against the strikes of light
that feeble fade and dusk.
To curl against the stripes of light
Till we are grey with dusk and night.
From Rue: Poems by Melissa Bull, Anvil Press, anvilpress.com. Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved.