N O R T H  S T A T E.


The North State states itself
Casting long shadows through the frosted grass,
In the invisible ice on the stones of the pier in the gulf,
Rising the sun slowly, inclined,
Rubbing hands.

The leaves, still green, fall, tapping in late weak applause.
The stray cat rushes through the open door
and hids in the warm covers.

The North State states itself
In the will to stay outside, in the cold,
and watch the season changing.