Extensions/Enclosures

Morning.  Still dark.
Myself, the bright room
reflected in the panes.

A dim projection
against a dark so dark
I can’t see what’s out there.

A sharp metallic clip
clips the silence.

Has this false dawn
awakened the birds?

Ice and then snow
bury what elation
I felt at the solstice,

the sense of expectation. 
The dream of water
singing under the pavement.