Sunday, February 14, 2021

Two Small Winter Poems

Waking In a Snow Globe

The wild wind tipped the world
upside down while I was sleeping.
Now, snow catches in tree-caught gusts of air
that blow small birds off course
and set the wind chimes swinging.
High above the spinning white,
the sun is prying the clouds apart,
loosing snowy feathers from the downy puffs,
until the air itself is made of silver and gold.

Winter Day

Snow is falling all around,
it swirls and eddies to the ground,
it makes a kind of whispery sound,
as is comes tumbling down.

Sunday, February 07, 2021


With all the Bernie mitten memes circulating the internet, I found myself thinking about mittens and remembered this poem from my years in the classroom teaching poetry. It was winter term and one second grader said, "It's cold out. Make up a poem about mittens." So I did.


I found a mitten in the snow,
just one, just thumb and hand,
and stripes of red and green and white
around the mitten band.

I don't know how it came to be
alone and in the snow,
or where the other one might be
and how was I to know?

perhaps it from a pocket fell,
perhaps a child lost it,
perhaps it kept a snowman's hand
from getting cold and frosted.

I hung it from a bushy branch
that grew there on the lawn,
and next day when I went to look
the mitten? It was gone.

Wednesday, February 03, 2021