Fire escape slats 
powdered stark
by snow

night’s been 
turned over
spadeful of soil

dawn coughs
but I’m slowly getting better
at less

fork down
to one tine
I watch the tug of crust 

between two finches
seedbreakers 
craw adaptors

neither better nor worse
an interval works
toward permanence

and I pinch on 
a talisman 
lamp

light at human scale
oiling the simple
machine

winter 
fulcrum I lever
breath against