Jake's Flea Market

tonight   wake
when late winter returns
home   your inmate

in your nightgown
with your candle kneel
beside your bed and shiver

after you go to  bed
after you go to sleep

when the horizon's become a purse
that today's early summer's
returned her sun to

when the warm breath
of today's spring's been
expelled from your chamber into the

late winter's dawn at dusk

the cold air seeps   into your cell through
gaps between the casing and the shutter
between the door frame and the door

through cracks 
in mortar and masonry he oozes
in   inhaled

the late winter returns
home   not to warm you out of your bed
but to freeze you in