I took hope in baskets, 
came across river brook bends 
that felt around ice flows 
for a hint of ground, 
cloaked as they were in 
pale shroud. 

I walk it up past train 
track marks and police tape, 
caution yellow the wounds we 
took as given until they 
burst out in red blood. 

I mix it with sugar, 
make honey water blossom 
for afternoon tea between 
the two of us shared. 

I give it to the sky, 
set it on windowsills 
to drift in coughing breeze. 

I watch its bundle spin sticks 
across horizons. 

I return to rooming time.