TABLE OF CONTENTS
The laughing couple at the bar
The skis snuggled on the landing
The barista, towel in hand,
The glass, the lips, the far
Moors from which the wind rips
The snow he brushes from her hair.
The ripe light, the half dry, clear
Mahogany drops, the tip jar.
The polished, tangled brace of arms
The leaning logs beside the fire
The last long drink, the loose goodbye,
The embers, a hundred years worn.