The Solitude of Night

It is three.

The snow awoke me

Tapping on my window

Wanting in.

I knew you wouldn't call.

I'm not supposed to have your number.

Silence climbs in bed beside me,

Though it cannot keep me warm

Or settle the quiet tempest in my chest

With its chilly arms around it.

I was dreaming of

The miracle of bridges

Flung across the waters,

Hung from cables spun from steel

And heavier than the Eiffel Tower.

Near the top,

You spy a glimpse,

The curvature of the planet.

- 2/3/26