Detail from "The Magpie"—Claude Monet, ca. 1868-1869
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento
What is winter
one lone bird
an icy gate
surrounded by bare trees
and blue snow
under dead white skies—
and waiting there,
perhaps to sing,
of find a crumb—or,
life willing—signs of spring . . .
EDGE OF SPRING
all the subtle
shiftings—the changing light,
of the rain.
SECOND DAY OF SPRING IN THE CITY
I will be the source of your discovery.
Come find me:
I am sitting at a small round table
with a white tablecloth.
I am waiting for a white cup
of house-blend coffee to cool.
I inhale its steam
and close my eyes.
I drift away from the moment
and wait for you.
THE TURNING HOUR: 5:00 a.m. Vernal Equinox
In the full-moon night of morning
of this first full-day of spring,
I feel the moon ignite the
dark with a fierce quiet
as I rise from my dream
and go to the window
to find the powerful
square of light—
the street lamps, and the
porch lights, and the first few
headlights of the morning, and I
stand there awhile in the stillness
and begin to map my day which, in
this clear, shimmering moment, I own.
Look, I will play a trick on you:
I will make you love.
And when you have loved,
I will make you regret your love.
See how powerful I am.
—Medusa (with congrats to Joyce Odam, Danyen Powell, Carol Frith and Judy Halebsky for wins in the Berkeley Poets Contest last Saturday. By the way, Judy was recently nominated for a California Book Award for her most recent book of poetry.)