November 29th (a poem)

November 29th


The sky is undrawn white

unrolled in schools

with tests of coming up with the sun

bright and correct after storms

the sky is a king sized bed sheet

for those who went the distance

long poles reaching out for space

and wired to shake off sleep

the sky is the back of a poster

hanging on the white wall

pressing a ghost against the season

straight through like stuffing a hole

the sky is foam and froth that

spilled all over without a drip

in a tall cup of hours the morning

is beginning as a sail hoisted and ready.