in their reflective gear

when i fall 5 times (we are counting) (not a contest) in between
walking up and down the mountain
because of how shoes slip on ice disguised under snow

when t taps on two white pines at the
almost bottom of the mountain,
at the edge of my favorite swim spot north of northampton
and listens to their notes,
announcing them to be a major

when i am saying goodbye to k and e as they’re leaving the house in their reflective gear and bicycle helmets around 7:30pm meanwhile i’m wearing my hooded blue sweatshirt and striped underwear mindlessly playing small notes on the piano, but after the door shuts, i press my foot against the pedal and revel in loud dissonance.

all that is left of the wind

my third time up the mountain today i see a whole tree
cradled in the arms of telephone wires.
the sun is sending out pink slivers from where its settling behind the mountains and
all that is left of the wind are the scattered pine branches spread across the snowy road and the innards of an overturned garbage can.

I pick up one of those tiny do not eat preservative packets, a battery, bottle cap, and an empty bottle of dishwasher liquid on my way home.