Snow

Duane Locke

From the hands of
The dark-haired Russian next door
Snow falls

Her yard-white
The only snow-covered yard in hot, tropical Tampa.

She builds a snowman
Out of the snow
Fallen from her hands,
Kisses
Him
Full
On the frozen mouth.

The Address of a Dark-Haired Russian, My Next Door Neighbor

Early, I went outside
To find my address.
For several nights in a row,
The numbers on my house changed.
In the last months,
The numbers have changed twenty-five times.

I'm so confused, I've given up trying to find out
Where I live.
But I know where I live
There are worms underground...
I've heard the worms crawling.
I've seen some of the worms peeping out of the earth.
All the worms, just like people, wear masks.
Most of the worms pretend they are rattlesnakes,
Except one,
He pretends he is an ancient dragon.

My next door neighbor with the dark hair
Turned her hose on this worm
When fire came out of his mouth.

I feel a kinship with this worm,
For my neighbor turned the hose on me
When fire came out of my mouth.

Someday I'm going to turn my hose on her.
She is always tearing up poppies.
She also tears up shadows.
One day with her scissors she clipped my shadow to pieces.

Her address never changes.

Duane Locke