Susan Aizenberg
United States
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White Cat And Notebook: A Still Life

Rain hushes this February morning,
that same infusing chill
that once entered the slim bones
of your hands, until they ached, flushed

and swollen joints another
of your body's betrayals; that laved

the grit of your radiant cities, brassy
asphalt fragrance rising, mnemonic,
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POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
http://www.blackbird.vcu.edu/v7n1/poetry/aizenberg_s/white_cat.htm
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