Winter

late autumn sun-
rising waters crack the ice
from an early freeze
–
a white canvass-
fresh gesso broken by
crocus blossoms

brutal onshore winds-
a nor’easter whips the sea
as waves pound the beach
–
my collar up-
a man chases
his hat

blowing on my tea-
before dawn the feral wind
roars in frustration
–
walking my dog-
the wind nips
at my heels

late winter garden-
a calico patchwork of
leaves and melting snow
–
a hollow log-
rain falls
on melting ice

slowly settled in
every movement painful with
these old weary bones
–
well worn stones-
shore water’s
ebb and flow

withered autumn leaves-
not sure if he’ll live to see
another sunrise
–
desert stars-
hard and blue
in the moonlight

early spring flurries-
a young robin perches in
snow covered holly
–
peach sunrise-
frost glazes the
juniper berries

icy morning air-
tender fingers deftly tease
the breath from my chest
–
a silent stream-
ice flows from
the jagged rock

an old foundation
reclaimed by a forest of
thickly tangled vines
–
blowing snow-
winds sing in
the chimney

strange muted voices
filtered through thin hotel walls
keeping me awake
–
overcast-
alone again
far from home