Tag Archives: snow

Reading sheet music


Reading sheet music

The guitar arpeggios are the roofs of nearly identical houses
In a small village. The streets are covered in snow, no one

Goes in or out. But the temperature even at night has turned mild,
No smoke rises from the roofs, which are spotted with moonlight.

In the morning a dog runs through the alleys, pausing here and there
To check out something new. Snow slides off a roof in the morning sun.

Rolling the trash to the street, Monday night, cold rain

Rolling the trash to the street, Monday night, cold rain

In the neighbor’s security spotlight, activated by my foraging,
The rain is turning to snow. No longer just the path of a motion

But the substance of a season. No longer a man in the dark
Putting out trash but, striding through the door, carrier

Of a million fragile messages of light, change, gravity.

Near the End of the First Winter of My Sixth Decade

Near the End of the First Winter of My Sixth Decade

Through a brick-lined alley where I read my life’s sentence
I step over a rivulet of snowmelt that flows behind me into the past

walking with an open cup of coffee in a soft cold rain

Winter Evening, After Much Snow

Winter Evening, After Much Snow

Plows pound the shoreline of the storm.
When their wave has passed, the shovels

emerge like crabs and get busy. The full moon,
distant jellyfish, drifts over the becalmed buildings.

South and North (2)

In the still summer swamp a cypress knee’s
a mountain. Behind the patient transparent lid

of danger there is not a single smooth straight
line on two hundred million years of hide.


On the hill I dump more March snow
behind my truck into a pile impenetrable as Everest

without a Sherpa. The uneven humps
of buried cars stretch ahead: back of a giant alligator,

danger lies silent on the surface of the road.

#FullMoonSocial // Overcast Full Moon Night, After Snow

Overcast Full Moon Night, After Snow

Rain melts snow then turns
to snow: earth slides soft

then stiffens and stills
and disappears under new snow:

Clouds ride endless wind
always leaving: unseen

and unmoved by the mess
and distance, something

of you and I makes its
own slow circle above