Advent

the angel came in the night
or it might have been the day.
we had no warning. we were waiting.
we had no sign on the lintel.
we were waiting for this child to come.
I didn't think to check my hope
that it would simply live.

Fare thee well, hair stylist in the second story window

The snow on Franklin Ave. had
us all stop and go and I glanced up
to the picture window
where you stood with your back arched and your hands
hair-woven I said farewell
as I trained my eyes back to the tail lights
22nd street stoplight softened with snow
like feathery '80s hair, big like that

big like this: every moment styled
with the gel of too-thick sensibility has a hold--"I'd
stop the world and"--that won't quit
until it's just--"melt with you"--
cut so too let your scissor
sing a farewell to the falling locks

I feel the cold
on my new head of hair
and I feel the air the air the air.

Methuselah

Back in college, term papers
had me up almost two days and nights;

I stumbled back to my room almost
full of hours as Methuselah of decades,
understood a little why
we yield finally to our rest.