leap day —

feeling lucky

at the one lane bridge

Canal Road

with its edging of mud —

we bring some home

rumbling thunder —

as if the first green shoots

need to be wakened

late afternoon light —

for the first time in months

not just bright, but warm

swampwater rising

‘til it’s level with the road —

we cross an old line

restless night —

every dream’s story line

shot through with rain

late February —

my neighbor’s dog

finds last year’s stick

taller geese, now

as the urge to nest wells up —

they look beyond us

birds on the wires —

I’ve forgotten how to use

my abacus

the lake ice melts

enough for the mallard

to rinse that bright green

the feeling of ease

when we travel together —

first signs of spring

bright morning glare —

again I skip the song

that reminds me of you

withered leaves —

another apology

for not sending news

tell me, flood water,

what was the thing I was

meant to learn today?

trying to find

the curve of the walkway

under all this snow

Valentine's Day —

we try to remember

that this ground will thaw

winter oatmeal —

our vision briefly blurred

by steam

the math of long love

our lives graphed in two parts

before and after

tonight’s bitter cold

a whetstone

for the crescent moon

sweat-soaked

yet calm in the knowledge —

I could outrun him

waking to a world

from a baker’s dream —

powdered sugar snow

In February,

a zephyr of warmer air —

my apology

finding beauty

in the trees’ bare branches —

how long since we’ve spoken?

holding her zenith

for just a few moments more —

February sun

our soaking wet gloves

tell the story —

snowballs before breakfast!

picking up speed

down the long hill to sleep

chased by a headache

meltwater rising,

fog sinking down to meet it —

every line blurs

the walk to school —

he looks longingly back

at his snow angels

our progress slowed

by the snow we piled high

along life’s edges