It Always Feels Like Winter

IN THE WINTER OF MY LIFE

Opening,
I hold tight the door with one hand,
opening
just enough for cold to slide in
and snow to
sidle past, then die at my feet.
I won’t let
life tug the handle from my grasp,
flinging wide
my soul to the world. I hold tight,
opening
just enough for breath to escape,
before I
inhale and set the locks again.

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March in New England

FIRST TO ARRIVE

Tricked again, crocus and tulip both
Rushed to dress, primping in the sun,
Crocus flirting with the melting snow.
Tulip fooled by the fake invitation
Expects a warm welcome. First to
Arrive, but the party never starts.
Winter laughs. You are so naive.

New Month, New Form

MY HANDS GROW COLD

My hands grow cold on winter eves.
The brightening sun my heart deceives.
This cold, this cold surrounds me still.
My feeble warmth can’t fight the chill.
Lost am I, like autumn’s leaves.

Will winter keep what she receives,
While summer’s child hides and grieves?
I hold what winter aims to kill.
My hands grow cold.

There are no stays, no late reprieves.
Her actions prove what she believes.
Hungry, she demands her fill,
This winter goddess cruel. Until
New love winter’s spell unweaves,
My hands grow cold.

Let’s Play Some More

A FEEDER FILLED WITH SUET

A feeder filled with suet for the birds,
Swinging from a hook beneath the tree,
Calls out to the squirrels without words:
A feast! A feast! And all of it is free.

Swinging from a hook beneath the tree,
The hungry squirrel can scarce believe his luck.
A feast! A feast! And all of it is free,
Even though the menu kinda sucks.

The hungry squirrel can scarce believe his luck.
Determined to defend his find, he fights.
Even though the menu kinda sucks,
He found this food, and now it’s his by rights.

Determined to defend his find, he fights,
Calling to the squirrels without words,
I found this food, and now it’s mine by rights!
A feeder filled with suet for the birds.

Playing With Pantoums

WHILE SUMMER SLEEPS

My fingers feel the cold; it settles deep.
The rest of me will surely feel the pain.
I cling to you while summer’s lost in sleep,
Our vanished warmth a struggle to regain.

The rest of me will surely feel the pain
As icy fingers wrap around my heart.
Our vanished warmth a struggle to regain.
Another winter tears our love apart.

As icy fingers wrap around my heart,
I long to feel the heat of your embrace.
Another winter tears our love apart.
Will summer wake and frozen dreams erase?

I long to feel the heat of your embrace.
I cling to you while summer’s lost in sleep.
Will summer wake and frozen dreams erase?
My fingers feel the cold; it settles deep.

Hope is the Promise of Spring

THE TEA ROSE

the tea rose grows
close to the street
a welcome home as
I turn into the
driveway

this year, one shoot
continues to bloom
even as the cold wind
sends her sisters
into hibernation

one flower
several buds
a stubborn refusal
to yield to ice
or snow

pleading with me
not to believe
these short days
and gray skies
will last forever

how did she know
this year I needed
the reminder