Cold shadows

in reverence i quietly watch the cold shadows of trees lace an apartment building across the parking lot outside my work window, imperceptively moving from west to east and descending into the ground as the sun rises further on this wintry day, reminding me of a seventeen-pound weight above my shoulders and neck that cracks the surface of rolling forecasts, blackens twenty-seven small circles on the iowa test of time, milling about the edge of green lake like a pair of ducks testing their courage to nest, beading jewels of consciousness along a string of silver moments whose blessings are counted on my back, on the wool rug floor at 6:15am, my belly flattened, legs and arms stretching and relaxing, during and after each breath, leprechaun dance fanning wax to cool whereupon my eyelids flutter in silence, greet this day, tell it all, advance the clock of earnest and fervent hope for staying awake, tamping the earth with an alder log suspended by cables from the eaves of my intersection with death, sweeping crumbs up with my hand and tossing them into the garden, spring is on the way, orders have been placed, matches have been burned, dawn of life, carbon sequence, near and far.