In current weather conditions,
this content is only
available to subscribers.

One can wait for the weather to change —
or subscribe now for instant access.

Subscribe Log in


Howard Altmann

I empty the years
till they fill the days,
walk the sky
till I find my footing;
listen to music
till it plays the silence back.

tall buildings weren’t shadows
drinking light,
water towers a drawing of the night;
silhouettes didn’t hold
the details of being.

The spoon in the bowl
was the glass on the table,
the leaves in the bin
the snow on the ground;
melancholy was never running
out of milk.