Happy New Year!

It is because the hem of her skirt
stays below the knee now;
Because the lips of her mouth
twist toward shadows at dusk-

Pull down the weight of memory
like people at night who
pull down the blinds.

Some days she thinks it is simple;
that everyone she sees
is a thin wisp of smoke.

That their voices, narrow and stark
as grey hallways, must be the reason
she turns away.

The glass of Merlot becomes
lost friends and lovers,
makes her less afraid
of strangers in subways-

the disheveling of
old sweaters and dreams.

~Heather Lenz

(for my grandmother)