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Judith Brice and Charles W. Brice: Two Winter Poems


Today, Of White

                                       After ‘Early Spring Thaw’ by Di Brandt


Today my bones shudder and shake—

quake with the wanton cold of winter

her snows of white and wasted draft

her fugitive clouds laughing across

a prairie of blank— empty,

as we wait for a sparkle of spring

that just won’t thaw.


Today is barely a week after

the solstice when the air is paper thin

difficult to breathe—

only ice crystals to see

and foggy froth from mouth

to air and back

if luck will have it so.


And yet into a new year I trudge

step by frozen step, my mind

inches forward as I image

that one emerald blade of grass

that amber sun push her way

to nudge a nascent pinking horizon

into her new moments of dawn.


copyright 2018 Judith Brice



                                                For Don Drife


We turn potato brown,

or parts of us do,

curl about ourselves,

to avoid the inevitable fall,

cling out of habit,

hope, and hallelujahs,

through the strongest

winter winds—winds

that would defeat

the staunchest oak—

hold close like

those who live

in our chests long

after they’re gone.


Copyright 2018 Charles W. Brice


Judith Brice and Charles W. Brice are married and live in Pittsburgh. They both have published widely in poetry journals.


Winter in Pittsburgh

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