Michael Simms: House
You want to lie down in the lost field
of your courage and sleep
beside the blurred road of snow
Robert Wrigley: Fifth Morning
But sun-shimmered, it’s a very nice
light to watch a day arrive through,
rainbowed red and gold and silver-blue.
Albert Garcia: Ice
Between the Sierras
in the distance and a faint film
of clouds, the sun rises
red like the gills of a salmon.
Mike James: Two Poems
Shopkeepers whistle while they empty
Their shelves. And the darkness goes out beyond
The store front arrangements and the small,
Blue houses and the empty fields never fully lit.
James Crews: New Year
It’s so cold on this January morning
the condensation in the corner of each window
has frozen to the glass, cannot be wiped away.
Fred Everett Maus: White Light 2020
I throw some seeds onto the snow and the dark-eyed juncos are here, very busy.
Peter Blair: Hibernation
Morning breaks
blue in the open spaces
through limbs
Paul Christensen: Winter is Dying
It is a relief just to breathe again without a shudder. The past has been very hard on us, with the terrible vengeance of a disease we can’t control, a government in tatters from the lies and treachery of a tyrant eager to become a New World Putin.
Hayden Saunier: How I Suit Up for Winter Storms
Boots from my son’s eighth grade year,
outgrown far faster than the heart-deep
humiliations he bore for being gay
that I could not protect him from.
Joy Gaines-Friedler: Winter, Go Ahead
see the moon lay its Templar light
over everything
even the swing-set in its cold metal
Christina Rossetti: From Sunset to Star Rise
Go from me, summer friends, and tarry not: I am no summer friend, but wintry cold, A silly sheep benighted from the fold, A sluggard with a thorn-choked garden plot. … Continue reading
Billy Clem: Winter
I’m eating at the local Shell, again, a hot dog, wrinkled as an old hitchhiker’s thumb, with a bag of chips and a lottery ticket I can’t devour but would … Continue reading
