A State of Mind

While I watch
from the warm side of the window
winter deepens outside my door

It’s true
the clock’s hands turn
the calendar sheds its leaves

but there’s something inside me
that won’t let go
of autumn.

The harvest is in
the vines have gone from dust
to dust

Jars of preserves
are lined neatly on the shelf
and I know

though seasons
cycle ever on
autumn is a state of mind

What Next, March?

The breath of April
warmed February days
so I cleaned the closets,
put winter clothes away
and brought out Spring;
light cottons sprigged with buds
that soon would bloom.
Oh, how the gods
rubbed their hands with glee,
and this morning,
quite unceremoniously,
I sneezed,
even before I saw the snow.

December Air

frost bursts
into the air
like a confession

everything is solemn
even the opalescent crows

in this winter meadow
colors flash from their backs
like prisms

from thrum to whisper
almost holy against the snow

the onset of incessant cawing
sends a shiver
through the frigid air

for a moment we tremble
then giggle
like children in church