frost on the roof

frost on the roof

of my son’s school

“I hate everything!”

he shouted this morning

as my wife tried to get him

ready to go

I’ll use the bathroom now

in the bakery across the street

read for half and hour

then go back over

to help in his kindergarten class

and everything will be fine

every letter in an envelope

has this one message in common

“I am contained”

and so it is with poems

where we wrap the same thing

up over and over

like a gift we keep getting back

if you press on this point yourself

I and the others will be able

to tie our bows as beautifully

as whatever it is that

continually reseals exactly

what we need the most

will thaw at the touch of the sun

like a pretty ribbon cut too soon