January Noon
From an old failure these phoenixes
fly out, from brown pools shining
where cloud white snatches move.
Noon cats sunsleep on January walls;
all along, in glassed sky patches of old road
winter birds dip and glance.
Wet in this hour, these glare spots
darken after, and close dry,
but will next day crack, and sun
with phoenixes again
from these depressions,
from the ground’s brown eyes,
while cats, puffed fat in sleep,
noon on these silent walls.
