Sidney Wade

(1951 / New Jersey / United States)

Snow Bird


I'm torn,
my beloved
in the ice-
ribbed north,

while here
in the sun

I feather
in the first
flush of green,
in the dazzle

of liquid return
to gold branches,
everything throbbing
with pollen

and birds.
My love, amid
the swirling
snow words

of another storm,
bends his tired
back and shovels
some more.

Submitted: Saturday, August 02, 2014

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