Carrying Your Coat

You folded up the heavy dark.

You hold it folded on your arm.

Your sleeves are rolled up to the elbow.

The air is soft against your wrist.

The morning cold is gone for good.

You walk without a heavy weight.

The pavement glimmers in the sun.

There is no need to rush along.

We passed the corner by the shop.

The ice is dripping off the roof.

You laugh at something on the ground.

I haven't heard that sound in months.

The morning cold is gone for good.

The wind is blowing from the south.

The trees are shaking off the grey.

Your steps are lighter than before.

We spent so many days indoors.

Just watching snow fall on the fence.

It felt like time had run out slow.

But everything is moving now.

The morning cold is gone for good.

The sky is open wide and clear.

Set down the wool upon the bench.

We carry less than what we had.

Just carry it across your arm.

No need to wear it anymore.

The afternoon is getting warm.

We keep on walking in the sun.

The latch is sticky from the frost.

I pull it hard and let it yield.

The hallway smells of dusty wood.

The fresh air sweeps across the floor.

We can go outside right now.

The front porch step is warm and dry.

Throw off the wool, unclench your hands.

The sun is bright enough to see.

The shadow by the wall is gone.

I hear a bird up on the wire.

My boots feel lighter on the stairs.

I do not need to hurry home.

We can go outside right now.

The breeze is softly turning round.

The path is clear all down the block.

We have a brand new day to burn.

For months we kept the curtains down.

We thought the frost would never end.

But look how easy things unbend.

When morning comes back to the street.

We can go outside right now.

The air feels good against your skin.

Step right across the wooden sill.

It is okay to start again.

Leave the door open wide today.

Let all the room fill up with light.

We do not need the heavy latch.

We are stepping out for good.

A yellow square upon the rug.

It moves an inch as hours pass.

I stretch my fingers in the heat.

The floorboards do not creak today.

It feels so good to start again.

The dust is floating in the beam.

I open up the window wide.

And let the quiet fill the room.

I washed the teacup in the sink.

The water ran so bright and clear.

I didn't think about last year.

I only watched the bubbles rise.

It feels so good to start again.

The air is coming through the screen.

It smells like wet grass on the hill.

The world is gentle on my eyes.

There was a time I could not move.

I stayed beneath the heavy quilt.

I thought the dark was here to stay.

But morning always finds a way.

It feels so good to start again.

The sunshine reaches to my feet.

I breathe it in and let it stay.

There is enough for everyone.

The light is resting on the floor.

It warm my skin through afternoon.

I sit right here and let it be.

And feel at peace inside my house.

The mud is soft beneath my boots.

It leaves a print with every step.

The melted snow runs in the drain.

I hear the water splash below.

My shoulders do not hurt today.

I look straight up into the sky.

The air is fresh and tastes like rain.

I take another steady step.

I passed the neighbor by his fence.

He waved his hand and gave a smile.

We didn't talk about the cold.

We only looked at greening grass.

My shoulders do not hurt today.

The slope is easier to climb.

I leave the heavy winter back.

Down in the valley far behind.

It takes some time to stand up tall.

When you have hunched against the wind.

But unbending feels so soft and slow.

Like branches turning to the sun.

My shoulders do not hurt today.

I reach the top and turn around.

The whole town spreads out clear and wide.

And everything is starting fresh.

I stand up high and take a breath.

The wind is gentle on my face.

My shoulders dropped their heavy load.

I walk back down with open hands.

The gutter carries tiny streams.

They dance around the curbstone edge.

A twig is floating fast along.

It sails into the open drain.

Everything is moving fast.

The thick white ice is turning clear.

The roads are washing clean today.

We watch the dark wash all away.

I jump across a shallow pool.

My soles hit dry brown asphalt hard.

I turn around to check my track.

My heels are dry, the water shines.

Everything is moving fast.

The dark grey banks are sinking down.

The sunlight glints off every splash.

The town is waking up right now.

For weeks the river stayed so still.

Locked in a coat of frozen stone.

Now listen to the rushing sound.

It found its way back to the sea.

Everything is moving fast.

The winter unglues bit by bit.

There is no stopping what comes next.

The current takes us forward now.

Stream down the hill into the lake.

The street is clear, the sky is high.

Watch all the water rush on past.

And leave us standing on dry ground.

The green paint on the slats is worn.

The sun has warmed the timber through.

I put my hand upon the seat.

And sit right down to feel the heat.

You can take your time right now.

Nobody asks where you must go.

The sparrows flutter in the dirt.

It is enough to just sit still.

An old man walks his small black dog.

He nods his head as he goes past.

I rest my arms across my knees.

And watch the blossom on the branch.

You can take your time right now.

The hours stretch out long and sweet.

The cloud is moving slow and white.

Your hands are warm inside your lap.

I used to run to stay ahead.

I thought that resting was a fault.

But sitting here beneath the trees.

I see the earth works at its pace.

You can take your time right now.

There is no test you have to pass.

The afternoon is calm and bright.

You are allowed to rest a while.

Sit on the bench until the dusk.

The sun stays up a little late.

There is no rush to close the day.

You are right where you ought to be.

I hold my ticket in my palm.

The yellow glass frame shines bright.

I lean against the wooden post.

The asphalt hums with distant tires.

I am not afraid to wait.

The breeze is blowing off the bay.

The coat I wear feels light and loose.

Another minute feels like peace.

A dog comes sniffing at my shoe.

His tail is wagging slow and friendly.

I reach to pat his soft brown head.

He sneezes once and walks away.

I am not afraid to wait.

The sky is turning pale and gold.

The schedule doesn't make me stress.

I have nowhere I hate to be.

I spent the winter counting down.

Just waiting for the days to turn.

And now I stand here in the spring.

And wait without a single worry.

I am not afraid to wait.

The red bus turns around the bend.

I put my paper ticket up.

And step inside with quiet steps.

The doors swing shut, the motor hums.

I take my seat beside the glass.

I watch the green trees pass us by.

Ready for wherever we land.

Small brown dots inside the glass.

I shake the jar and hear them click.

I pour them out into my hand.

They feel like tiny dry smooth stones.

There is room for things to grow.

We set them deep into the soil.

Add water from the rusty can.

And leave them in the morning light.

My thumb presses a tiny hole.

I drop two seeds into the dark.

I cover them with cool black earth.

And wipe my fingers on my jeans.

There is room for things to grow.

The pot is warm upon the ledge.

We do not have to force the stem.

It knows the way up to the light.

Some things stay quiet in the dark.

They lie beneath the frozen crust.

You think that nothing lives down there.

Until the green shoot breaks the top.

There is room for things to grow.

We wait a week and check the green.

The tiny leaves are turning up.

It happens quiet, sure and true.

So press the earth and let it sit.

The windowsill holds all we need.

A little water, lots of time.

And watch the green come pushing through.

The wool scarf slips into my bag.

I undo three buttons at my neck.

The cool air hits my chest and skin.

It feels like drinking cold clear stream.

The breeze is warm and soft today.

I walk along the brick paved lane.

I leave my heavy gloves at home.

My bare hands feel the wooden railing.

The bakery door is propped with wood.

The smell of hot bread fills the air.

I buy a roll and eat it slow.

Walking past the flowering plum.

The breeze is warm and soft today.

It lifts the hair off of my brow.

The dark coat hangs open and wide.

I feel so light I could just run.

Remember when we wrapped up tight.

With layers built to shield the cold.

We looked like armor in the street.

Now we can show our skin again.

The breeze is warm and soft today.

It rolls across the open park.

Unbutton every heavy fold.

And let the afternoon come in.

Undo the collar, let it breathe.

The winter coat is tucked away.

The sunshine touches on your throat.

We carry on in soft warm air.

I dip the sponge in warm soapy water.

I wipe the dust off of the pane.

The grey film slides down in a streak.

The sky outside turns clear and bright.

Look at all the light coming in.

The room is fill with pale yellow glare.

I dry the corners with a cloth.

And throw the old dust all away.

I see the garden through the glass.

The pear tree buds are swelling pink.

The fence looks straight and newly painted.

The world looks closer than before.

Look at all the light coming in.

It hits the table and the chairs.

It shows the tea spots on the wood.

But everything looks fresh and fine.

We spent the long months behind fog.

Not seeing what was out beyond.

It takes a simple bucket now.

To show us what was waiting there.

Look at all the light coming in.

It warms my hands upon the glass.

I drop the wet towel in the sink.

And open up the window frame.

The glass is clear, the view is wide.

The sun comes straight across the room.

No dirt is left to block the day.

We look outside and see it all.

Your key ring jingles in your coat.

You check your watch and smile at me.

The station clock strikes half past four.

The air is gentle, light and pale.

We made it through the heavy dark.

The winter did not break our bones.

Send me a message when you land.

I will be right here at my desk.

The pavement glisten in the dusk.

The streetlights turn on one by one.

They do not look like lonely lamps.

They look like welcome signs tonight.

We made it through the heavy dark.

The spring is standing at the gate.

Take off your boots when you get home.

And let your toes feel warm again.

We talked for hours on the phone.

When snow was piled up past the porch.

We kept each other warm with words.

And now the real sun has returned.

We made it through the heavy dark.

The sky is soft and blue and deep.

I hear your train blow down the track.

And know that you are safe and sound.

Just call me when you reach your door.

I will be waiting for your word.

The long cold turn is over now.

We made it safely to the spring.

The grass is soft and damp with dew.

My heels sink down an inch or two.

I leave a trail along the lawn.

Where frost was sitting yesterday.

You can leave it all behind.

The old tracks fill up with wet rain.

The ground is soft enough to yield.

Each step is making something new.

I see a robin on the post.

He dips his head and pulls a worm.

The soil is rich and dark and wet.

It smells like earth that wants to grow.

You can leave it all behind.

The hard cold ground has softened up.

You do not stumble on the ice.

Your legs are strong and steady now.

We thought our steps were carved in stone.

We thought our errors stayed for good.

But look how mud just smooths right out.

When spring comes walking through the field.

You can leave it all behind.

The path goes forward through the gate.

Walk right across the meadow grass.

And do not worry for your heels.

The footprints fade into the grass.

The mud dries soft beneath the sun.

We walk ahead on open lawn.

And leave the hard ground far behind.

I hold the ceramic in both hands.

The hot tea swirls in amber brown.

A tiny curl of white drift up.

And fades into the quiet air.

Take a breath and let it go.

The morning air is sweet and soft.

The table holds your breakfast plate.

There is no trouble here today.

I sip it slow and feel the heat.

It moves right down into my chest.

My shoulders drop another inch.

I rest my chin upon my palm.

Take a breath and let it go.

The steam curls up toward the light.

The window lets the breeze roll in.

Your mind is quiet as the room.

For months my chest was tight and cold.

I breathed in frost with every word.

Now hot tea warms me to the bone.

And everything feels easy now.

Take a breath and let it go.

The sun is shining on your cup.

Drink down the last warm amber drop.

And start your morning with a smile.

The mug is warm, the steam is gone.

I set it down upon the tray.

My hands are steady, calm and clean.

I am ready for the coming day.

The iron latch is smooth and cold.

I lift it up and feel it click.

The hinges creak a friendly tune.

The wooden gate swings open wide.

The world is waking up right now.

The ivy leaves are turning green.

The stone path leads into the yard.

Come step right in and take a look.

Red tulips push up through the dirt.

Their folded heads are bright and strong.

They do not fear the night-time chill.

They know the sun will come back round.

The world is waking up right now.

The air is smelling of fresh soil.

The tall oak tree is sprouting buds.

The darkness had to yield at last.

We stood outside this closed up fence.

And wondered if the green would grow.

We waited through the long dark months.

And now the garden blossoms out.

The world is waking up right now.

The sunlight covers every stone.

Walk down the gravel path with me.

And see how good it feels to stay.

Just hold the gate and let it rest.

The garden path is open wide.

The winter left no mark at all.

We walk into the blooming green.

I reach my hand up to the twig.

A tiny fleck of emerald bright.

It looks so small against the bark.

But it is strong enough to grow.

Nothing stays frozen forever.

The hard brown wood is coming back.

The sun is warm upon the leaf.

The sky is wide and full of hope.

I touch the bud with my fingertip.

It feels like velvet, soft and dry.

Last week this branch was stiff as stone.

Now it flexes in the wind.

Nothing stays frozen forever.

The sap is running up the tree.

The forest stirs from end to end.

The long sleep ends today for good.

When everything was ice and grey.

We thought the life had gone for sure.

But underneath the rough dark bark.

The summer was just keeping warm.

Nothing stays frozen forever.

The branch is turning to the light.

It will be covered thick with leaves.

Before the summer comes along.

Look at the green upon the wood.

It tells us all we need to know.

The cold is gone, the life returns.

We grow right along with it.

The streetlights flick on in the dusk.

The sky is painted pink and gold.

My sneakers click on dry white stone.

Your shadow stretches next to mine.

We are going to be fine.

The evening air is soft and cool.

We do not need to hurry back.

The night is gentle on our heels.

We pass the corner grocery store.

The fruit stands sit out on the street.

Bright oranges in wooden crates.

And berries smelling sweet and rich.

We are going to be fine.

The winter lies so far behind.

Your hand is warm inside my coat.

We walk together down the lane.

There were nights we walked in silence.

Just trying to survive the dark.

But look at how we talk tonight.

About the simple things ahead.

We are going to be fine.

The front porch light is burning warm.

We reach the steps and climb up slow.

And turn to watch the quiet street.

Walk up the stairs and take my hand.

The door is right here at our side.

We made it home into the spring.

And everything is going fine.