by Nic Saluzzi
Midday Miracles
I love the way you jumped over the puddle.
Really — the way your coat fluttered in
The skyscraper-funneled wind was angelic,
Like the sun made your golden hair a halo
Just for me —
Passing by on the other side of the throbbing street.
To The Cold Woman I Passed On Boylston
I imagined buying you a new coat.
A nice, puffy one.
So puffy it’d fill the room,
With only enough space for me,
With no coat
But you.
Woman With White Beanie Outside the Boston Public Library
I thought I could see myself in your winter eyes,
Lifting my boots over impossible galaxies —
Trudging, happily, into your overflowing heart.
Nic Saluzzi is a writer from New Jersey currently living in Boston.