Just a reminder
Just last November, we turned back our clock,
and with that extra hour that we found,
we interrupted our late midnight walk
beneath a tree. Ripe acorns snapped the ground.
And since said time I’ve loitered on the spot,
snow-sprinkled in post-coital solitude,
to reheat moldy memories I bought
with this hour’s debt and what use has accrued.
Now, in the fountain, orange Asian fish
hide from my shadow as I pay respect
to what I owe to winter as I wish
you would remember or Time would neglect
collection. Mountains green but frozen still
are west of where we lingered, cold skin tight.
I don’t know if you’ve paid this debt or will
or which range lies between us two tonight,
but only that we’re here and here must stay,
resigned into the latest pose we’ve chosen
when struck by showy streaks of early day,
like fantail goldfish when the fountain’s frozen.