Tree branches frozen,
Encased in a crystal sleeve
Like the Snow Queen’s wand.
The afternoon moon
still among cumulous drifts,
mottled white cloud-like.
She sings wordless songs
of adventure and nature
things only she knows
The last stubborn snow
Persists in fifty degrees
Unmeltingly solid.
Persistent snow drift
Every day a little less
melting into March
Sycamore limbs stretch
Spreading to full potential
given space and time
Quiet and busy
toilet paper on the floor
A roll strewn with joy.
Urban park mural
So bright on a winter’s day
punchy, popping hues
Weary yet hopeful
Welcome to the human race
Solidarity
