1. Soon the old year must join
    its dwindling thread to a new
    coil of days.

    The daylight hours cast
    their sheen on sheets of crackling ice,
    while oblivious to the dueting wrens,

    the chickadee darts through
    the lilac. The sun, too, is blurred
    by a kind of viscous film so that I think,

    Give me fire, or give me water.
    Tell me you love me, or tell me more.
    And on those days when neither will suffice,

    give me coffee and soup– two
    of the things my grandmother used to say
    should always be served scalding hot.

    ~ Luisa A. Igloria
    12 30 2010

    1. “Viscous film” is much better than “mucous”!

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