In January

 Only one cell in the frozen hive of night
is lit, or so it seems to us:
this Vietnamese café, with its oily light,
its odors whose colorful shapes are like flowers.
Laughter and talking, the tick of chopsticks.
Beyond the glass, the wintry city creaks like an ancient wooden bridge.
A great wind rushes under all of us.
The bigger the window, the more it trembles.

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - In JanuaryEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...

Top Ted Kooser Poems

Analysis and Comments on In January

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem In January here.