I Sully Sometimes

The clean November day,
I smelled a cold clean
when I walked outside;
an almost clinical cold, frosty smell:
A November clean day.

It was a bright day but
it wasn't because of Sun
it was almost as if
it was arfiticially lit outside
it was that kind of bright
it was white, sort of eerie
it was crisp.

My fingers laced yours up
for the first time --
our hands sawdust dry at first
and then at last:
neither became sweaty just
dry dry dry
like they had been floured -
they came away easy.
My fingers unlaced yours.

That wet grass hillock
looked less dry and clean to me.
I didn't want truncated actions
So my dry hand
pulled you to the top -
I sat in a 4/5 "W" shape
and you in an "L" after
you balked the whole way
staining your white tennis shoes
with heel-digging in
that hillock's wet grass.