Early morning

Early. Walk 
to buy milk.

Wind scuds the road
raises dust-
-devils forces 
tears to haul 
behind them
pails-full 
of grief, fear
of your death.

Returning.
Milk and bread.

Sun warms my spine
unshadows 
the blackbirds’
aerial song
bidding accepting – 
brick, privet, cars
iridesce.

Arc of the 
bridge connects.

One walk
one day
home.

Material fact

I can see

surfaces

only

which, I see,

is two metaphors

or three.