Snow Moon

Snow Moon

Fifties today,
rain by daybreak.
Unlike many,
I would welcome snow
and crisp biting cold
and wisps of cloud
across a sky
wrapped in stars,
winter clear.

In this year
of friend against friend
and bitter words,
the February thaw
unseasons.

There will be
more anger hurled
before dawn.

Dawn's Cute Cooties

Oh, beautiful Dawn.
Your cooties are beautiful, too.
Have you talked to them
and asked them
what they require?
A sonnet, a thought-provoking
read, a magic aria?
Do they revel in warmth
or especial coolness?
Do they respond to code
words, marking them off
as less tolerant?

Would they accept advice
from Facebook Friends
to find other cooties
and plan a cootie party
which would leave out
their host human?

Cooties: a word to the wise...!

The First Small Snow and Clouds

The First Small Snow and Clouds

Like sugar on crumb
or random fruit,
small snow marshmallows
short, brown grass
and wet green grass

You wouldn't think
that cold would abide
where there is no ice
and yet
the beads of melt
slick, then mesh
like spiders' homes

Across houses
just like each other
under snow clouds
that blanch them
into grey
more pleasant
than seventies
new

and bless them with
snow-quiet
possibilities

 histories

Sunset (Painting by Vladimir D. Orlovsky)

Sunset (Painting by Vladimir D. Orlovsky)


Unspeakable red
surrounded by green blue
purple clouds

They may blot out
flame
but by that time winter
night will advance

and the grey beige
house
toward the back
will come shadow

on the vast
somber land
suggested and unshaped
by snow

Song for Winter

Song for Winter

I like

hard ground

just short of frost

grey-white-brown and solid

to push my storm jacketed

self through

the wind

and eyeball

completely bare

branches shearing

up to the sky

Way too spiky

to measure.

Sweet Potato and Cream Cheese Pie

Sweet Potato and Cream Cheese Pie


The most amazing light orange,
just off peach,
but proclaiming itself
by the light swirl
because after all...cream cheese.

Sweet potato eases in
like a fine morning
and even though it's supposed
to be winter,
it plays the pie
like a hint of summer
and spice,

Dream of something
soft
almost flies down
teaches your stomach
how to say yes
in southern

even though you live
near New York.

As a Duck

As a Duck


As a duck,
I would have
several ducklings
and explain to them
that they should stay
under my wings
or next to me
because, I would say,
you never know
when some bully
will decide to
create a signature dish
with orange sauce
or infused seitan.

I would explain
to my duck husband
that it would please me
no end
if he would sing me
to sleep
in several duck languages.

I would then dream
of ponds forming
after rain
and running
hourly with new
streams
under our curled toes.

And, to celebrate
my ducklings' new knowledge
in
our season of blessed flight,
 we would all
summer back
to the same place
each early, safe blue
July.