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
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