Losing my way to Papa’s
The winter runs chilly through my bones.
I can’t get warm, nor can I any longer
conjure up the spring.
I am stuck in an eternal January.
The earlier visions of Mallory Square
are gone now. The tarpon have disappeared.
The Green Parrot is closed
to my wandering mind
and I can’t even imagine the airport anymore,
let alone Duval.
A vague flash –
a rooster crowing
on an empty morning side street,
waiting for the tourists,
waiting for the sun.
This disappears too.
.