untitled poem

The air tonight is clear
as a pool of water
So many things have gathered
shape tonight - hard and unforgiving.

They no longer murmur to me
in disjointed geometries.
Tonight they lie orderly
like letters on a page.

Tonight, even the cement road
seems smooth without the stubble
of small stones and potholes
an unblemished grey sheet.

I might lay my smooth cheek
against it, the short swim
of air between here and there
is invitingly cool to my skin.

It is easy to imagine -
my body soft in sleep under
a streetlamp whose light
congeals under my fingertips.

Time flutters for a moment
like a page from a book
and then lies still and cool
undisturbed by my breath.