Winter Art

Ever changing winter art on windows.

Your icy deliciousness
flavored by minerals spills
over mountainsides in free fall scenes.

You are noticed, your tendrils gradually

engulf tree limbs and trunks.
When the sun rises, it is to silent beauty;
a field of diamonds.

I see glistening of grass stalks,

icicles hang from rooftops
and cars, decorating them like holiday
ornaments.

Your icy coldness

takes my breath away. I am not naïve,
these gorgeous icy days
are treacherous, even deadly. 

I let the beauty entice from afar but I know…
a wrong step, a little too fast
on black iced road could mean
injury or worse. I try not to let my
guard down, for it is then you show your
true composition and break me like an egg.

Charcoal Days

*Photo credit: Keith R. Good.(Photos by Keith Good Facebook Community Page)

Memory glimpses – stark,

a charcoal sketch. I see
the scene, bare trees,
dormant, death reaching up.
Grass, just shreds of itself,
green gone, done, dark,
dead.

I said Mama, the grass died.

Heart sick, I look to her.
She said not dead, it comes
back.  Years of winter disbelief -
but spring came and I did
see. 

I live in a place where grass

does not die, doesn’t give up,
where trees leaf all year.
Hope of Spring comes,
brings expectation. I wait
for winter to give up.
I wait for my son to come
home.

 

Winter's Eve

Pink brushed flannel with soft white lace,
Sherpa lined slippers and my favorite
robe, well-worn and ankle length.  
Hot cocoa from the Keurig in my red cup.
Husband at his computer, brown mug,
steamy with the same brew.  Lexi Dawg
snores softly at my feet, click-clack
computer keys is the music we hear.