this morning

ice erased in just one spot

sun moves up the road

wanting a perfect

grief that lies

gently across my

shoulders like

reassurance

wanting an imperfect

memory that

varnishes away

scratches and

tears

wanting one

more chance to

say goodbye

to talk about

today's snow

he, always

alright alone

we, now

not so much

push on

until

a sigh

a draft

a flutter of

words and 

wings

and then

breaking

like clay

against the shovel

fall back to earth