I wore a red scarf that day:
it just felt right
since the day froze
and my hands strangled
the warmth of breath.

I felt a little angry that day:
can’t you tell?
I’d say nobody loved me so,
but the scarf of a stranger
dropped on the road.

What was that day?

I’d tell for a cruise to the Caribbean,
or a smoke, if you’d be so kind. 
Perhaps a meal for two:
one for me,
and the other… for me.

I wore this scarf on that day,
where I watched it all happen
there, on that road:
the snow turned spotted bright,
like cherry blossoms in Japan.

I once wished to go to Japan –
because who does not?
Now, I just dream it:
and no dream has failed me yet
as I continue to fight the bloody

bloody bloody 



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