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

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

innumerable
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

January 15, 2014

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


January 14, 2014

underfoot
the hard wobble of acorns —
we all had first steps


January 13, 2014

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

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

imagining
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