Winter in the frozen yard

holding a wish –

petals pulled from the flower of your smile.

Then, back to the shivering cringe.

Can the man next door really enjoy his cigar?

I bow before his blown blue wisps

exhaled – staled – wrinkled.

I am the man who has lived on your spoon.

Tonight I will sleep in the snow

and bark at the wind.

And tomorrow

I will chase my tail

once again.

 

Eugene Goldin was born in Manhattan and grew up in Queens, NY. He is a professor of Counseling at Long Island University. His most recent poetry has been published in, “The Artistic Muse,” “The Gambler Literary Magazine,” and “eleven to seven.”