poem of the day 02.13.10

snowballs

i’m addicted to the gloom
the misery of the daily race

i miss so many moments this way

moments like this

throwing snowballs
while we wait for the bus
to take us both to work

hurling ice balls across 77th street
hitting walls and fences, trees in the distance

laughing like two idiots
our love as crystal as the ice shavings
melting on your black gloves

there are so many things to talk about
the worst kind of trivial business

i want to keep quiet about it all

but i’m addicted to the gloom
i feed on it

i miss too many of these moments
years of joy passing between us

undiscovered by me

for a moment like this
i have to work the silence into an art
just to catch it

i miss moments the way working stiffs
miss busses

please not today

today i know i’m keeping this one

here it is.