a final
morning as the
ice retreats
baring the
city to
the orange
nimbus
hovering
gently to
the east

by tomorrow
only the furrows
carved by
the glacial
dispersal
will remain

the skies
blush a light
pink as if
a hundred thousand
blossoms awaken
to dispel
winter from
the sleepy city
as it stretches
to embrace the
rising sun

i murmur my
thanks into the
coffee steam
and my love
into the sunlight
filtered through
the dirty glass