January 2019 – Page 3

the last day of spring-
apple blossoms ride on the
late afternoon breeze
–
barefoot-
crab apples
in the grass

at the podium
a wool blanket wraps itself
around my tongue
–
summer sun-
snowy cotton
waiting for harvest

the clouds and your eyes-
my head in your lap amid
a field of daisies
–
a dry vase-
tired blooms
bow their heads

dark grey winter clouds
heavily laden with snow
loom over this town
–
winter sunrise-
shallow paw prints
in the snow

this fight is over
and yet I find myself still
walking on eggshells
–
fallen trees-
we drive home
in silence

by a forest stream
above the frogs and crickets-
winter stars appear
–
late spring thaw-
fox kits cross
a fallen oak

friends and enemies
all are but dust as I wait
for mortality
–
a dark attic-
old records
gathering dust

a cold rain falling
I sit in the dark waiting
for you to come home
–
past midnight
your car’s tires
on the drive

heavy water jugs-
her small bare feet unwashed and
calloused from the road
–
the rivers edge-
awaiting her turn
in the water

bitter on the tongue-
the hot bilious taste of
someone else’s fear
–
an owl’s cry-
the field mouse
frozen