Wednesday, January 25, 2006

To More Seconds

January Second

Between leaks of sun
snow comes in
horizontal blurs
turning the grey line
of hardwoods to static,
flattening a field
of winter rye.

February Second

With snow sealing the house
like a soft sarcophagus
and the feeder crawling
with titmice and chickadees,
we listen for traffic
on the highway over the hill;
but there is just a fluttering
of red by the window
as the cardinal from his cedar
settles in, rolling each seed
until it opens.

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