Al Ortolani
Lenexa, Kansas, USA

Bone Cold

Arriving, I find the Zen Center doors locked. The front steps bare, windswept, cold like bone. Check the calendar for the meditation workshop. A week late. Leaning against the wrought iron rail, breathing the winter air, diaphragm rising, falling. One sparrow flits to the step and puffs his feathers.

final essays graded,
sparrows prying rosehips
from snowmelt