And there was the distance
behind me like a fading shadow
while the stress
of having covered miles
vanished before the thrust
of softer obstructions
in whose midst
I no longer foundered



I keep thinking
of a man and his marriage
with the snowflakes falling
and whether he should wear gloves
or swallow an aspirin
before opening the door.
He zips up his jacket
and flings the hood over his head
spoiling the neatness
of his combed hair
with a necessary gesture
while reminding himself
there are other alternatives.

Jack Lindeman’s newest chapbook is Measuring Dorcas (Finishing Line Press). New poems have recently appeared in Abbey, California Quarterly, The Cape Rock, Chiron Review, Confrontation, and Poetry Now.

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Published in the December 19, 2014 issue: View Contents
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