Aeron Andrew Kopriva


All of a sudden the weather
begins to matter,

snow geese, cows belly
the fields. And it becomes clear

once again we are the wind's

Not cold-blooded exactly
as much as

marsupial, the sky
pitched tightly around us--

an onion-color before it rains.
It is from this

disconsolate cold
our words finally become visible,

breath-igloos, receiving
our whole heart's temperature,

and to hear you say it
is no longer enough.