How to Rouse a Pewter Sky

Start at the edges
where it begins to fold 
into frozen pond,
run your fingers slowly 
between that tiny seam of earth and sky,
warm gradually,
feel for the ember,
it's under thin ice,
press it to your palm
allow that cool rind of doubt to soften
wrap it thrice around
your first thought after waking,
blow them both a kiss
with swish of swallow
it can scatter stupid notions
about brittle and hope and winter. 
there, already
this steely mood shifts,
pewter sky to morning robe;
the rest is duck soup.


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