I headed out into the icy world to walk off some dark thoughts.
Snow, then rain, then a hard freeze had turned the world wonderful.
On Lenox Avenue, outside the Martin Luther King Houses, the street trees sparkled.
At the top of Central Park the snow was hard under the freeze.
The Harlem Meer was ice block solid.
The North Woods, so green in spring, stood frozen.
Some ski tracks, some boot prints, and nothing else to show passage.
I walked towards the light.
My heart was scrubbed in the silence.
I passed two people, both with cameras, and both smiled.
I passed tell-tale pokeweed, for spring.
And a tufted titmouse. Who said, There are worse things.
Like being called a titmouse. For example.