I came at first to feel some dread
When eagle wings rushed near my head
His haste forced him to drop his prey
Then move to branches overhead

I thought for sure he’d come my way
To find the prey he’d dropped that day
But no bird came, the prey was lost
And left for game to haul away

The next day came a heavy frost
The shallow creek could now be crossed
The snow clouds pushed their blackness in
Some broken trees an added cost

When snowfall starts and calm begins
I hear some chatter on the wind
An eagle family settling in
An eagle family settling in

Twinkling stars fall from the night sky
and gently descend to the earth-
Like a dew drop kissing a blade of grass,
the glittery white star nestles herself amongst the others-
The stars sugar coat the vast green space
and eliminate color from below.

The griffin outside my balcony
squinted and shook
flipping Kansas City
upside down and back.

Giant flakes descended
like softest down -
coating the plaza below
with a mantel of frosted white.

The griffin is squinting once more.
Watch out; hold on tight!
Here we go again
whirling about in a cyclonic flurry
of magic fairy crystals.

*August, 2010

There is a girl
on a bench in the park
at the edge of the town.
She is young.
Little ringlets of copper brown
frame her delicate face.
Wide eyes of the purest sky blue
scan the trees.
She is looking for something.

She stands up
and straightens her skirt.
Her legs shiver,
and her socks grow heavy with water.
Nobody is around to question her,
about why she's out in the snowstorm.
She wouldn't answer anyway;
she's too focused.
She is looking for something.

Cautious steps now.
The ground is slippery with ice.
Her boots do not hold
because they are too worn from walking.
Finally she reaches it,
the edge of the sidewalk.
She peers intently into the grove.
Her blue eyes narrow.
She is looking for something.

All is silent,
except for the flurries of snow.
Before long there is a blanket on the ground.
It is thick powdery snow.
It collects in her boots and on her scarf,
and she shudders as the ice
presses against her porcelain skin.
But she is silent, focused.
She is looking for something.

After a moment,
she steps back and sighs.
There is a slight smile on her lips.
Her nose is red and drippy with cold.
Still, she is silent,
though not by choice.
She has no one to talk with.
It's barren.
She has found what she was looking for.

What it was I can't say.
Either I don't know,
or it's not my place,
or you could ask her yourself.
But there is a girl
on a bench in the park
at the edge of town,
and she is happy.