While the lawn beast hibernates

Winter blue swirls through branches,

empty but not brittle.

Wind makes a mark like a love bite on bark;

I tighten my scarf

watching steamy breath spread

across the windowpane,

like inkblots like dragons like icicles

almost ready to give way to hyacinth.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s