WEBVTT

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I'm going to read
some newer poems.

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I'm going to read
these first four

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poems all in a row with
hardly a pause between.

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They're four separate poems.

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But somehow, I feel a
connection between them.

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The first is called "November."

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"I open the door,
the first cold air.

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And behind me, whatever I leave.

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In November, the first
snow, the first change

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from color, this new stillness.

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A dark-haired girl,
we found each other.

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I wanted to touch, to
enter her, to believe,

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as our minds jerked together.

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She was all.

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Though doomed, it
would have been once

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and could never be canceled.

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Night, whisper my grief that
slinks against the cold.

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Dreams and the
silence behind them,

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the ringing silence in
whatever space we are."

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