Winter Neverending

Now again upon us like some old musty horse blanket
Winter's bland embrace smothers the land and its inhabitants
no spring swirl of swallows or even a twittering of redpolls
can yet break the trance in which we plod.

Bare branches of ash trees look like witches' brooms
stuck into the frozen ground handle first.
Would there were a witch hereabouts
because I'd barter with her to break this spell.

Oh Winter you've been harsh this year
wielding all of your power yet sharing few of your gifts
I'd like to curse your blinding whiteness,
your gray slush and clinging clay mud, your knifing wind and stinging sleet,
yet what good would that do?

Instead I'll wait you out
'til spring comes 'round to wrest control
when the tiniest zeeee from the first gnatcatcher
sends you scampering to hide behind Autumn once more.

This January Day

Though winter's demise has been foretold
since pagan solstice last month passed us
We're still shivering in the cold
with bitter winds that do harass us.

Red-winged blackbird has lost his song
yet epaulette still lights up his shoulder
and each of us still slogs along
through day time cold and night time colder.

Sounds of spring, I hear your ghosts
the cardinal's cheer in his throat sleeping
frost-killed grass like day-old toast
I strain to hear spring peepers peeping.

Along the Edge of the Woods

Appearing like a rusty apparition
along the edge of the woods
the red-shoulder sits
waiting for a noisy skitter
of cottontail or squirrel.

He shiver-shakes snowflakes off his back
pulling one foot up
into warm belly down,
slowly settling every feather back into place.

I admire this bird
living by his wits, patience, and killing skill
through afternoons of wet snow, rain
and nights cold enough to crack trees.

Make it through this winter
and let me hear you
screaming keee-yah! keee-yah!
right into the the sun's face.

Then I'll know that spring has finally come
and another winter has passed.