Snow

i was stuck in a room with
imagination like a top hat
and across the street saw a bookstore i’d last seen
almost forty years ago on the other coast

	hello     i’d like to buy
	the snows of yesteryear
	i came all the way from medieval france for that
	and the guy behind the counter looks at me says
	did i know you in college?
	this bookstore was in toronto     anyway
	not the village or telegraph avenue
	i can hear cars like lungs
	passing behind his voice

and the glow     of winged bicycles on the wall
sometimes age needs wheels
i really want that book     i really do
i know the snow i’ve crunched through to get here
sometimes a street is just real enough
and you’re on it

from Yew Nork (2014)