i will drown

in answering

all these

letters

just the ones

written at

midnight when

the paradox

of light

slinks

in like amber

weeping

at summer’s

end when

my rooms

of dogs

and rowdy

children dropped

off here by

the humane

society

between the lines

i must remember

to burn the

letters sent to me

in the fireplace

before the watchful

cold

slinks

in, too