snow storm

heart drifts enlarge 

tiny pellets pelt 

    felt fiercely 

like stark open chords blowing 

    through window gaps 

gathering gusts of grief 

that only the magic of 

warm held hands can melt 

two pictures April 17 1998

she is three 
& sits serious at table 
round green eyes solemnly 
singing 
    singeing through you 
framed by door 
two balloons blue and yellow 
tiara says birthday girl 
hand grips Styrofoam plate 
she’s waiting for her cake 
& your heart does a double take
can there be such goodness 

she is three 
and chin is angled up 
in pride smile 
    aflame 
for she has just blown out 
three candles on round 
cougar cake 
white icing placed just so 
pale blue kitty shirt 
made just for her it seems 
and your heart beams 
there is such pure joy

a cat still

this cat 

    so still stares 

out through window 

at cold stillness outside 

does he like what he sees 

in that white world 

so few birds 

a sometimes truck 

drives past 

and yet still he 

watches 

as if everything depended 

on his being sentinel 

as if the world’s heart 

couldn’t beat without 

his watchful eye 

until that 

still 

    small 

        voice 

speaks to him & 

he stands 

    stretches 

        & moves 

to another post in his still domain

darts

magnet tipped 

blue red 

tossed to metal target 

we try for bulls eye 

circle within circle 

sometimes we hit it saying 

I waxed you 

and sometimes it’s close 

and we say I edged you 

and we go again 

this old game 

catching a five-year-old’s excitement 

his long blond curls bouncing 

as he keeps a running bright-eyed commentary 

and I’m the lucky one 

red darts flying straight to my heart