Share a smoke, strolling home
from Camden Lock; watching lights
in bedrooms and lounges spring to life
in other people’s houses.
It is warmer tonight –
the thaw, slowly setting in. Not
much snow left, not here on the ground;
only slushy stuff.
Our bus beats us to the stop.
We run, full pelt; sit up top like a couple
of college-kids. Both, breathless...
can almost smell the melt.