a cold morning
we wake to find the hills, the pines
dusted with a confection of snow
our single pane glass frosted, rimed
and stillness pregnant but utter
i blow smoke rings of winter air
snuggle deeper beneath our quilts
search and find her warmth
saturday, all things are possible
a drive to tsankawi, a hike, a picnic
in the cold bright sun, los alamos
in the distance, beyond that tegucigalpa
aur0ra borealis, ulaanbaatar, the pequod
but first an inventory of what is right
a catalog of events unreported, ours
Poetry by one trick pony
Read 317 times
Written on 2021-02-27 at 14:26
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Lawrence Beck |
josephus |
Esti D-G |