I’m the right candidate because I know
how some things stand in for others.
Cotton batting for snow. A small mirror for a frozen pond.
There is a light bulb inside the church
that makes its plastic windows glow.
All I’m saying is it must be nice
to arrange the world on a mantle,
then plug the lights in.
A mistake: passing the semi in the storm.
Nocturne sounds pretty, whatever it is.
An orange sky at night. My biggest weakness.
In ten years I see myself pointing out a cardinal on a power line.
I’ll tell you about the time I solved the problem
of what colors were meant by oyster, tulip, and sidecar.
Or when I cut hundreds of paper snowflakes
to hang from the ceiling
for someone else’s honeymoon.
I can tell you a little more about myself.
Like snow in April, I am a tired sort of fearless.