Forty

He begins again and awaits spring with a dull razor and a clean skull - pure like water The cat always comes to kiss his ear when he goes to touch his toes and stretch his bones are so very ready to run run run His memory slipped and the peace lilies come in from the fire escape and shed their frost fur : four stories up He steps on all the mail on the way out the door On Washington Ave the cracks in the concrete are gilded in snow (he glares down on them) This is why he waited to be forty to peel layers and beat his body to rule as he runs, king of his own city