April Snow

They float down,

Those Individual wisps.

Periods which end

No sentence.

Quotations,

Bereft of content.

I press my ear

Do the dormant grass

To hear the sound

Of their touchdown.

“Shhhh,” they said.

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Blue Spruce

Huddled, they hold spring in

the bending.

A strength they give without giving way.

Lake effects of layered white

perch over and again.

The weight of the world, speechless,

rests on winter green.

The equinox of forgiving

will send its mercy and grace

and warm the bitter branches.

Snow will cry again

into the soiled.

 

Winter Wedding

Lace draped like a cloth

cut from the clouds

on upturned roots

which lined the roads.

Crystals of symmetry,

like linen sleeves

slip down the arms

of sleeping trees.

A canopy formed,

a wedding veil

suspended on the wind.

I heard Pachelbel’s canon

as I stood in the aisle.