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lying on the groundi feel the earthwormsaerating the soil
fat squirrelon the porch eating rock salt--a crow caws
Saint John Rivera 32-bar four-couple strathspey --serpentine
an egg fried in creamon a homemade tortillawith fresh salsa
on the wirea lone pigeonagainst the grey sky
always worth readinganything by the authorPercival Everett
the soiled matbeneath my snow-covered bootswelcomes me home
putting on his hatthe old man stares out the windowat his snow-covered garden
roads are treacherousas the storm continues, but, aaahh ...the ice covered trees
the snow won't stopand the old man wonders --will my daffodils ever bloom again?
no traffic lightsthe darkest skiesmy little town
tiny twinklesled by Venus and Moonbreak through the darkness
seed casingsdecorate the snowunder the bird feeder
i search the housefor the source of a new squeak--it's the birds outside!