a wintry poem

today's poem is from march 93. a rather typical wintry day here in the Pacific Northwest.

not a lot going on today. just trying to recover from a hard night-shift past ... preparing to head back to the salt-mines in the morning.



WINTER IN YOUR POCKET

winter in your pocket.

scarves upon your heart. no dancing shoes
as rain turns to ice
& no crows visit your window sill

with miracles.

broken rock

in the shade of josuha tree. no dreams
as the wind carves tales into your face
you cover with the oils

of max factor.

unprayed rosary.

salvation waits, as if an apparition
lacking only form. vapors of your breath
linger in a frozen sky, as you query

the cold of faith.