Before Christmas

We live
under the bare sky
in a flat cold place.
The arctic reaches right
down to us without having to
go around.

It's amazing how little
keeps us alive.
There are three sparks here
glowing tiny in the black,
like stars in an ice foggy evening.

One of us is nothing but
covered in fur,
the two of us have clothing.
There is an assuring
network of speech
that heats and lights the buses,

and we let the night
consume itself
and wait for the day.