Red Cap with White Pompom

It may be just a leap

When one wakes up on a snowy night

And hears his arteries drum

Because he had dreamt

Of the dead

While feeling alive

Like a dog hacking a hairball

It might have been just a leap

But when one lands in the same place

Was it a leap?

Too early for coffee, too late for new dreams

But a walk in the snow is like a forbidden book

One knows not to read yet each page turns one’s fingers

To point

To the same point

Where the leap was taken

At the drum beat of neck arteries

So loud

January 7, 2016

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2016

I took this photo in Jerome, AZ a day before Christmas 2015