augury doggerel

Monday, February 25, 2002

Migratory Headache

The spring I feared is gone � a big sky of snow crashed down and spun cars off the roads. Under trees, you're afraid to breathe, but birds grip and sing.

At the bus stop this morning, all was bright and late and out of joint.

The rickety house-grown-on-a-house where the pretty girl with dark skin lived had been condemned for months but still full of people and cats. Now it's happened � they're gone and the windows and doors are open to the snow. I suppose they will amputate when the weather clears.

An old car gave up on a young man going to work. The driver sat behind the wheel at the side of the road and calmly ate his lunch. Two rooks stood in the tree over him and yelled.

A woman coming across the icy parking lot fell and could not get up. People from the kiosk nearby put her in a folding chair, propped her legs on a packing crate, threw a blanket over her legs, and stood by her for 20 minutes while they waited for the ambulance. She looked as if she were watching television or reading a book in the middle of a snowy lot.


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