Advancing

Rivers of cold,
Molecules of ice,
Frozen balls of air,
Rushing
Across the state
Down I-75
Through the city
Up the street
Past the stop sign
Over a neighbor’s yard,
No tropical dam
To halt them.
Must be
Winter.

It’s February

It’s February
And soon day is over;
Before I know it
It’ll be October.

Barren trees and snowy white
Come and go and come again,
Chilly days and chilly nights
With only a fire for a friend.

The sky a smoky gray
With ghosts from another season
Haunting nights and haunting days
Down streets icily freezing.

The stillness is ever quiet
Till the wind bursts from its cave
A blizzard dancing with snow
Flakes bouncing wave after wave.

A white monolith of mountain
Rushes through cities and towns
An endless white filling the eye.
Then a green sprout through the ground.

It’s February
And soon day is over;
Before I know it
It’ll be October.

And the leaves will fall,
And the leaves will fall.

micropoem of the day: one last blast

Well, folks, I know one thing. I will not miss January. At all. And I’m sure a lot of you probably feel the same way. We’ve been getting the cold. But we’re not getting the benefits. You know, like snow. There’ll be no Frosty the Snowman for us down here in mid-peninsula. That also means no snowball fights. Soon enough January will be gone and we might just end up being nostalgic for it.

One last blast
of a winter freeze.
Like a skater
ice comes, ice goes