Snowdrift

Logs
—Poems and Photos by Carol Louise Moon, Placerville, CA
 

SNOWDRIFT

Snowy weather always brings
snowbirds, like juncos. The new
snowfall here in Truckee, with
snowplows on the highway, brings
snow-white winter wonderland.
Snowcapped mountains call for our
snowsuits, snowboards and snow chains.

 Compound Stump

POETRY IN A WINTER RAVINE

Noir poet brings me to this place.
She takes me down deeper into
this ravine, where rocks soak in cold
shadow. Withered grass blades have
given up hope of warmth, waiting
in non-listening.

Birds don’t come here, preferring
the sunny tops of trees up on the
frosty ridge.

But I am here today, down under
and alone, dark book in hand. 
My cool fingers flip the pages
where fearful eyes fixed on
dark words move slowly across.

The cold boulder on which I sit
hides a snake hole. And there,
even deeper underground are
coiled fangs in hibernation,
dreaming of those tiny tender
skittering tidbits of spring.

 Firewood

JOGGING IN WINTER

Winter returns to me
from around the corner.
Ropes of wind whip my ankles.
My crystal eyes blur.
Clouds form in absence of speech.
I quicken my pace through town. 

Lichenwood Pile

SAYS ADAMEUS

What do I see in the light of these
candles that you have always seen?
The rocking chair, the crib, the
broom, pots and kettle on the old
black stove. Our life is here in this
cabin, our joy fulfilled in this room.

What do I smell in the cool night
air that I’ve never smelled before?
You lie with long hair dripping
sweat, breasts full of milk, sheets
in disarray. You are a new creature
whose eyes hold firm, whose limbs
relax.

I am here for only a while, and you
have shut the door. What do I
hear that I have not heard before?
The wind has carried the birds away,
only silence remains in the pines.

He is strong—the babe—his cries
in the morning. What dream?
What pang? I‘ve endured a winter
once before and have heard the
cry of a rabbit.


(prev. pub. in Poetry Now)

Small Stump

STATE OF OUR UNION

Do you know that the state of our
nation is like a ship foundering in
stormy seas? Looks to be headed for
the rocks. Even those nesting birds
know to cling to cypress bent in the
wind. Consider the roots in soil and
the winds of change.

The breaking waves erode the cliffs.
Tiny seashells lie in blackened sand
in times like these. The Osprey drops
a great fish, his talons losing grip.
Her eggs are scattered on the ground
in these high winds.

Search the Captain’s logs for clues.
Look through his spyglass and scan
the great waves. Hold fast to our
democracy that we do not lose it
by way of those who slept and
did not trim their sails.

Tree Stump
 

Today’s LittleNip:

SNOWBALL
—Carol Louise Moon

Scurrying home from downtown
shopping I’ve made time for some
seasonal fun. Get out the
shiny top hat and bow tie!
Some say I take my man too
seriously. He’s just a
snowman and slush, for Pete’s sake!

______________________

Thank you, Carol Louise Moon, for reminding us of the many moods of winter! Tonight in Sacramento, Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe and Juice Bar meets at 8pm, 1414 16th Street, with featured readers and open mic. Free, but please partake of Art Luna’s fine food and libations. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about this and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.

—Medusa, celebrating snowsuits, snowboards, snowshoes and snowshoe hares ~ (but snow chains? not so much…)

 “…have heard the cry of a rabbit.”

—Anonymous Photo

Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.