Thursday, December 17, 2009

Winter, Ridge Road

A crow cawls across the ridge.

Snow tips from ten thousand limbs.

Some falls up, the way

ash ascends a flue.


  1. Like smoke, the blackbirds billow,
    dip and curl into white sky.
    She remembers what
    will soon be water.

  2. The Children and I in Winter

    We've got snow up to our ears.
    Oswego New York is cold,
    six ear lobes are blue,
    the wind finds us all.

  3. ice is the biggest threat, and
    fleet feet find it treacherous;
    no matter how fast, slip
    and flat on the back.

  4. Warm Crept Over

    We are the bent bones breaking,
    old trees fumbling under snow.

    Light peels forward like
    new skin. The ice melts.