Noticing

It's 2:23 a.m.
my pants are in
a pile around
ankles and toes,
the nails of them
unclipped.
outside my window
the light from the
stars and probably
the moon, too,
twist with the street-
lights, and make the sidewalk
sleepy, beautiful,
cold-looking.
I can imagine
perfectly
how the snow will
settle on this street,
how the flakes will
land and stay
just from this moment,
maybe in a month
or so, and I can't
wait.