River of January, TN
The sky is one cloud, an ocean. The road is pewter,
a river. The driveway has a line of burnt umber bald cypress trees
beside it, young and bare, and it’s a limestone-bottomed creek.
It’s taken years to reach this intersection of place and date:
there should be more to log than longitude, latitude,
time, the universal mist, and one scrawny squirrel. New Years Day.