Forts

Snow piling up on the sidewalks The city's a soft, soundless space I find the silence reassuring Something I don't see in your face Trees bear the weight without complaining A skill I wish I possessed But there's a limit I'm fast approaching A sinking feeling in my chest Can I go back Will I get better Is it true that It's always, if ever Digging forts in the ditches I'm hiding, aiming shots at passing cars Can I go back They clear the street at six each morning I'm drifting in and out of sleep Unable to turn off intrusive thoughts And another front will bring a new heap Can I go back Will I get better Is it true that It's always, if ever Digging forts in the ditches I'm hiding, aiming shots at passing cars Can I go back