February 22, 2011

Snow blows sideways across the field,
Forming little crests and waves.
The biting wind sucks my breath away.
My body aches with each hip deep step.
Even the dog finds the going hard.
No dazzling pools of light and
Long blue shadows beckon us
To continue on to the marsh and the river.
The day's colour has been erased,
Leaving raw gray light and flattened shapes.
Quickly I dump the putrid overflowing compost bucket,
And we struggle back to the porch.

I close the door on the bleak coldness.
Wet boots and coat and mitts come off,
And find me still pink and cosy underneath.
Marsh curls up at my feet on the striped Spanish rug,
While I relax with a warm mug in the lazy boy.
The red gourd lamp throws dancing light
across my bumpy vibrant starry night mat.  

On the kitchen window sill
A gangly green geranium sways upward
Out of a large round blue ceramic pot.
It’s one large glowing red flower,
Obliterates the winter beyond.