i lie inside and recognize
the sound of a cardinal
taking seeds.

it is a sound only made
by cardinals taking seeds.

it is a click

like none you hear otherwise.

i blink and theres empty 
squares of light on the only
wall i look at, nights.

they tell me my lungs are bad and
i have snowpants, rain suits, tested
and tried waterproof boots that
stand the creek, alright. but it is
pajamas, if that is what you might
call this outfit ive worn 60 hours.

i saw buttercups in January.
also, native cheeries bloomed.
i wondered if theyd bloom 
again come spring, but i
wont know, now will i?

i open a window, a dog barks
by City Hall. something in my
gullet tells me, Tomorrow.