Ten Degrees

Ten degrees north
of where we were
the light is furtive
infrequent
and wistful.
My command of this
language is
like the light.
I speak softly,
indistinct,
uncharacteristically shy.
There are differences
in a minor key
ten eggs
and not a dozen
papers that are just
the wrong size
for my filing cabinet.
It can throw you off
the distinction
between a place
and another
(just a bit)
the axial tilt
of a personal sphere.
The things we carry with us
and what we
hold them in
must be returned
for deposit
or remembered
while leaving.

                                Dave Grill