Category: Seasons

• First snow

  A tiny, frozen splash alights under my left eye. What is falling at 6:05 a.m., here, in the dark? Black sky speckled with street lights and white clumps, fumbling onto my face and jacket. I heave in to feel the cold rush enter my nostrils, then throat and chest. It cleanses with a shiver. I…

  Jenifer

  February 4, 2015

  Bite-sized sampler, Chicago, Meditation, Muse, Nature, Seasons

  poetry

• The city breathes

  We walk in a world muffled with blue-white snow piled high. A single shadowy path guides us. Our boots crunch, blunted echoes in the distance — a car horn, shovel, train crossing, dog bark — the light of smudged stars tap through a black, hazy sky, asking permission to appear and speak. The city takes…

  Jenifer

  December 10, 2014

  Chicago, Meditation, Muse, Nature, Seasons

  poetru

• Another poem about a rose

  It hangs there still in the cold December air having bloomed late, and now unable to set seed. I had thought it a thing of hope when it first bloomed, white, stubborn. The dog does not follow me downstairs at this hour, her joints sore, orientation off. Alone in the gray night, uncertain in the…

  Jenifer

  December 8, 2014

  Aging, Dying, Garden, Nature, Poem sampler, Seasons

  poetry

• A rose on the first day of winter

  Still deep pink, regardless of the snow settled between its petals. I ask you how will your innocence hold up,

  Jenifer

  November 24, 2014

  Aging, Dying, Family, Love, Seasons

  poetry

• Book of changes, i

  The sun was bright today, but not enough to keep the lanterns lit tonight. Bare tree branches in tangled knots streak the black blue sky, scraping the air as they sway. If I had thought to prepare, it would not strike so hard that we will spend months waiting for a new set of leaves…

  Jenifer

  November 11, 2014

  Aging, Dying, Memory, Nature, Public, Seasons, Veteran’s Day

  poetry

• My window at night, viii

  Mostly afraid the rain will stop, spattering on pavement and irregular bricks, wind flourishing through wet leaves, taking its time, coming in time, hollow pounding on garbage cans. I hang on random drips echoing in corners of the side yard, longing for its everlasting.

  Jenifer

  October 4, 2014

  Aging, Childhood, Dying, Love, Meditation, Muse, My window at night, Nature, Seasons

  poetry