January 31, 2014

late night drive home —
who will choose the songs
we sing along to?

January 30, 2014

she remembers
putting up the mailbox flag
meant something to share

January 29, 2014

front yard bunny
shows us where the front stoop
needs shoveling

January 28, 2014

he smiles, circling back
until we’ve all become
part of the chorus

(How you will be missed, Pete Seeger!)

January 27, 2014

dawn’s easy alchemy —
gold every time

January 26, 2014

after the storm
I can’t stop thinking about
what might have been saved

January 24, 2014

worn down by the day  —
even the moonlit snow
gets on my nerves

January 23, 2014

ice invisible
from every angle but one —
awaiting her answer

January 22, 2014

all laced up, but
the ice-calmed lake is still
not safe for skating

January 21, 2014

branches now outlined in white
as if for counting

January 20, 2014

such sweet abandon…
letting go of plans and then
doing it again

January 19, 2014

winter layers —
appreciating the moon
behind clouds and trees

January 18, 2014

made bold by moonlight,
we sneak open the door
to watch his angel face

January 17, 2014

watching the stars
from the corner of her eye —
ambiguous kiss

January 16, 2014

absent memory —
the older sister explains
how it was again

January 15, 2014

during apartheid
we learned N’kosi Sikeleli —
I still sing it

January 14, 2014

the hard wobble of acorns —
we all had first steps

January 13, 2014

the lake freezes
then thaws again —
do the fish notice?

January 12, 2014

no one can tell
which of these singing birds
was born just this spring

January 11, 2014

wordlessly watching
a dark swirl of birds
stir the morning fog

January 10, 2014

choked with ice
the river jumps its banks —
she calls me at work

January 09, 2014

the smell of snow
and the feel of chicken pox —
long ago winter

January 08, 2014

at day’s end
high above our cold-bowed heads
the moon no one saw

January 07, 2014

amber dusk —
he turns his hearing aid off
to watch the sun slide

January 06, 2014

the last storm came for
trees that were ready to go —
save math for morning

January 05, 2014

how we will hold on
to any story that feels
like ours

January 04, 2014

under a snow drift,
their colors forgotten —
front yard azaleas

January 03, 2014

after the snowstorm
birds and trees showing through —
just the one canvas

January 02, 2014

small birds for whom tonight’s snow
is the first ever

January 01, 2014

singing to himself,
our boy sets something right
in the rest of us