March On

It arrives when you do not notice, a new month, a new dawn. I walked home along First Avenue, the sky that strange light it gets when it carries snow. A young man with a pizza box in his hand high fived me with his other; the steam stacks stood in the middle of the avenue, unperturbed, painting the city like you knew it from movies. At one a.m. this town is yours and it is all you could have ever dreamed. I had too much wine, we had too much to say, at one a.m. the world is yours and you do not give it back when asked.

A new month has arrived. Everything that fell with the snow is washed away by sunshine. I made this bed with clean sheets, I set the alarm for other time zones. An old month died.

I did not die, with it.