Saturday, March 5, 2011


Sniff for snow, scan the sky,
touch the earth one time -
what do you say?

Throw out the old bones
one more time - something
is coming right this way.

I scry in old cattail fluff
the beginning of the world
the wander off of winter.

Can you guess when,
where it comes from,
where it goes? Nor can I.