a poet with nothing to say

she has been here
before


a woman in a poem
who would rather be
anywhere else


a poet with
nothing to say


with the brutal weight
of early december in
upstate new york
pressed against every window
in his house


all colors reduced to
shades of grey
and the pills are what
she misses


the feel of warm light
across her face


a single hopeful thought
completed
without the walls
falling down to
crush her