Two Stories

Day fades

too soon

the clouds

dim the sun

and all I've left

undone

mocks my evening rest

Light lingers

lengthening

day by day

Every minute

a minute closer

to spring

All my hopes

glow warmly

like the pink clouds

that frame

a brighter blue

sky

 

Sensory

 

No cleaner smell

than new snow

scented

with cedar

wood smoke

and cold

Frozen

 

Listless

I gaze out

windows

glazed

with ice

Even the clouds

look frozen

painted

on the cold sky

like frost

on glass

Eve

 

Instead

of what the year brings

what do I

bring

if I open

my eyes

and begin to see

again

the new

the nearly

the nuanced

the next?

On the margins

 

On the margins

of the river

in ditches

and the shadowy

places

on the north side

snow lingers

dirty lace

that clouds

mimic

in ragged strips

in the bluest

sky

Day moon

 

Is this

day moon

my mood

lurking

usually

well hidden

unremarked

and unremarkable

until

I see it

feel it

where it shouldn't be

where it always is

December Snow

December snow

welcomed

with wonder

stretching

to catch

in mittened hands

savored

on tip of the tongue

smiling lips

lifted

for the damp kiss

of feather

flakes