One clove of garlic, chopped,

sautéed in olive oil,

a handful of spinach leaves

steamed, rice noodles boiled.

An Arctic freeze

settles on the city

too dry for snow,

the ground frozen and stiff.

A squirrel walks the top

of the fence toward the firs

looking for something tasty,

finding little.

Place setting for one

at the table, a vase of roses

flown in from Chile,

dark now at every window.

FEWalls