Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Courage Is a Skin

Courage is a skin I wear
when it’s cold out or
when the wind bears down on the flower boxes
like two hands stiff with rage.

When I come home I slip it off
and hang it up, a pair of sunglasses
or a set of keys, swinging by the door.

My apartment is temperature-controlled.
Every window has two locks
and nothing is loud
or strangely named.