A Trusting Visitor
She said the window would scare them away,
being able to see people and strange things
far from any meadow with flowers,
and she thought the glass might trick them
into flying for an inside that blocks the sky She thought we should hang the feeder away
from the house, instead of using its suction
for the couch’s window.
She never thought it would happen,
the humming bird coming right at her,
landing there close enough to see its wings
rest and shine beside its green and blue body.
She said even with her hands on the window
it didn’t fly away, and it was cool
and amazing and beautiful.
A Poem for Winter
This has been a winter
with few whispers of spring,
I mention to my father
when I call to check his need of anything
for the coming of the newest snow.
The freezing days keep
our neighborhood ponds frozen,
so I don’t worry about my son
discovering a forbidden bravery,
a bravery my childhood winters gave
when we’d gather at the lake on snow days:
one foot, push, the other foot, stand,
and if water finds its way atop the ice,
two steps back.
This winter of memories has given
time with my daughter in her bedroom,
finding long and thick socks.
I gather and stretch them over her toes and ankles
while she suggests painting her room
might be something we can do after snow angels.
Come evening, there is peace beneath the couch blankets
just as there is peace beneath the snow covered ground
where spring waits patiently, like us,
embraced by winter’s gifts.