Saturday, February 18, 2012

Blue winter

Blue winter's flame

Above the stove,
we lit a tender fire.
Swiftly, the pointed flames
shoot and shimmer.

Blue as winter's drear
outside the window,
There lies yonder
a cold, darkening world.

Yet I stay sheltered 
by the smoke of tonight's soup:
red carrots and other soft vegetables,
heated by ringlets of 
dancing ballerina blue fire
on the metal cook-top stage.

They feed our winter's warmth.


Winter Long Ago

Winter – it begs
My plaintive pining
Not of summer’s sweetness
But a memory of a dear place;

A fish-bone caught in the throat:
A contritely-accepted apology
That no longer chimes
My ears. That was
Winter long ago.