Untitled Poem

Lately, I feel that I haven't been able to really finish any work. Over the last month or so I've written a great number of short, sort of fragmentary pieces, but only one that has been relatively conclusive. What I am posting here is another of these fragments. Maybe someone can give me insight as to what I should do with it.

POEM

The cove-thicket water is frozen a foot deep.
Deer prints mark a path in the snow.
I step onto the lake, let my
rubber boot-soles clop on the surface,
listen for silence.

Beneath my feet flit the backs
of death-cold salmon,
in the light of a white-wall sky...

Music

This poem, "Music," is inspired by a Frank O'Hara poem of the same title. It is one I worked on over Christmas break, and I am posting it here tentatively. I'll probably make some changes to the post sometime soon.

MUSIC

Fifth and Maine, by the Belvedere, Louisville, downtown,
I watch as a horse pulls a small carriage, man and woman
side by side, a heavy blanket on their lap,
the horse's iron shoes clopping on the cold cement.
A woman in a red scarf and purple tweed coat
paces the corner, pressing the silver button,
ready to cross the street. I listen to the hum of engines,
sputtering, impatient, waiting for the light to change green.
A group of Somalian bongoists are drumming
near the doorway to the Bank of America Building;
navy blue cardigan sweaters, capped in black and gray.
Warm mist rises from their mouths in musical exhale.