Bed

almost a month now-
how can I still be finding
crumbs in our bed

fresh coffee-
your side of the bed
is still warm

Snow

sitting on my couch
not sure if I can get up
after shoveling

rabbit tracks-
a snowy owl
motionless

Midnight

hushed and reverent
watching the moonrise and the
rebirth of the year

midnight-
snow falls over
the farmer’s field

Loss

another phone call-
your tired face deeply etched
with dissapointment

drifting snow-
fox prints near
an empty hutch

Beach

the incoming tide
laps the shore and erases
our sandy footprints

whispering surf-
driftwood
in the reeds

Winter

the walk to the car-
turning my jacket collar
up against the wind

aging-
cold breath
on my neck

Fire

a lovers embrace
two hot tempers intertwine
leaving just ashes

falling snow-
crackling in
our fireplace

White

freshly cut lilies
pure and white and beautiful
laid upon his chest

city streets-
a blanket
of fresh snow

Predawn

ahead of the dawn
plodding bleary eyed into
an ashen twilight

flannel sheets-
coyotes barking
before the sunrise

Hiding

my cupped hands hiding
the glow of a cigarette
behind the garage

cold rain-
ignoring my phone
before last call