"Beloit, Wisconsin, February, 1983"
from Arbor Vitae 2.3
by Thomas J. Erickson
Past the icicled cyclone fence,
the glass encased trees,
the wrapped up little boys with their sleds,
we walk to the town.
A lonely town with going-out-of-business
sales and candy cane light poles
and dark factories by the river.
In the livid twilight, you hold
my arm while crossing the icy street.
We crush berries in the snow—
red on white.
Warm for awhile.
Coffee and eggs are a comfort.
You, across the table,
turn away
to watch the snow fall
and the snow falls
so silently