From some night a few weeks ago

Ode to a haiku

Cuddled up cozy
Kitty wants outside to play
I say no to this

For now, it is late
Sleep and dreams are for having
Like wine on Friday

Only it's Thursday
Pounding echoes soft rain drops
The roof holds solid

Nick drake drones softly
To a background of street hum
And dim bus lighting

February chill
Ain't so cold compared to march
When we save daylight

Nothing beats sweaters
Made of wool and magic love
Except for ice cream

Scooped on beach boardwalks
Each drip saved from the pavement
Toes drawn towards sand

And water, at first
It's cold, like our cone fillings
With its own flavor

Here it showers roofs
And feet unclad from the wet
Less intentional

First flowers are up
Mistaken by brief sun breaks
But still I like them

Like the idea
Of bus living in summer
Can't come soon enough

For windows open
Chillin by moby dick's tale
And beers on the porch