March 2021
The following poems describe our journey into winter. Quid pro quo best describes living in the North East part of this great country. We enjoy the other seasons so much that when winter blows into town we accept it as payment due. If you have any comments or poems send them to: larryspiro@verizon.net
Night walks from dusk toward a shivering star.
The stroll is slow and long with crisp snap of
broken ice and clawing clutching wind.
Darkness drip, seep, freeze dragging slow
to retired dawn reeling to awake.
Red blaze ignite the fleeting day where
second seem like minute, minute seem like hour.
Grey skyblank the evanescent light.
Night walks from dusk toward a shivering star.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Interrupt
The wind roars and shrills
blasting through the quaking sill.
She shifts her sheets
and moves slowly from a half dead sleep
towards the darkened light.
barely dreaming, slightly seeing
the grey night shrouded in vitreous white.
Pale fingers press her face
against the rigid pane.
Her dreams sift through frigid lace
and options, identity wain.
Shivering breathes fog the view.
Here and now, near and soon
fading silhouettes against glass,
demur to the static moving past.
