the weather has nothing to do
with this poem. It was only when
I looked up from my writing that I noticed
the sun coming in the window.
I laid my pen down and reached out
to catch a sunbeam. I saw it, I felt it’s warmth
on my hand, but when I tried to hold it,
it slipped into some other realm.
I ended up with a handful of air
and a warm feeling. On a Monday
in the middle of January,
I am thinking that is more