It snowed last night which pleased me - but hardly enough - it just teased me.

The thin, white sheet of snow looked bright and fresh
the dull, browned hedges of fall became holiday dressed,
the air had a sharp, chill perfume and the ground a new, sparkling flesh.

Lisa, a New Yorker who knows snow, gawked at me as if I were insane,
“You’re excited by NOTHING,” she sarcastically complained.

I replied, “When it snows there’s a quiet solace, and the world looks clean and flawless.”

The weatherman is promising us a blanket of snow this weekend
and that would be nice, a storm of ice, to lock us in as the week ends

The nest, half a walnut, about;
two tiny, unhatched eggs,

and this, November, cold after
a rare storm spun off a rare named one,
back east,
brought rain, right between the harvest
and the harvest festival,
as far as city folk imagine… I must assume,
no, allow,
no, imagine, I must
as far as I might say I know,
say these'll never hatch.

The flax will be just fine, though the
wheat will just be fodder.

sky like combed smoke
unseasonably warm for mid November
carrying my coat
i wonder if winter depression
can be missed this year

oh, the fire with its dancing beams
welcomes each morning with hues so bright,
engorges as the globe circumnavigates,
fading, dissolving, with approaching night.

the clouds play tag with the ball of gas:
covering, as curtains - some thin, others thick.
mighty Cumulonimbus precedes the drops;
delicate Cirrus wisps are the sky’s speckled pick.

the forests serve as shadows for all the horizon:
redwood to palm, soaking up a meal
from the glowing radiations that branch out;
the rooted ground is theirs to steal.

the species of the world adapt to its clock.
majestic elephants roam while the glows remain,
and owls wait for the blackness to settle;
everything in its path is cured of their pain.

The night sky was pierced
We watched leaking rain and stars
Wearing a tree hat

~
Storms make grey the sea
And erode the surface of the shore

Cold resentful icebergs
Outside my window
A field of sinking liquid caskets
Closing in on me

I hear the sound
Of toy pianos underwater
Remnants of their music keep
Washing up on achromatic beaches

Songs that made love shine
Have fallen into shipwreck
A missing charter's rusted hull
Casts the one color heaven allows

Storms make grey the sea
And erode the stages of the sun
~

Sometimes I feel
Like the rain
Cries for me

These bottled-up emotions
I hold onto underneath
Leave me hurting
And empty

But then it rains
and it feel like something
knows my pain
And I don't worry

Thank you

Rarely does it rain while the sun shines
the light cascading upon each delicate drop
The temptation to be out there and to feel the cosy embrace of the rays, yet simultaneously
The desire to hide away from the icy splashes in hopes to stay dry