winter crushes
the promise of April,
a string of robins
shiver at my window;
...
I found her on the deck
half-baked,
choking on the noon-day sun
frantic with a batch of rats-
...
I am tired without you
staring into January;
tree lights, red and gold
tint my window.
...
when tides bow
under saffron skies,
we become one with the twilight-
memories thaw
...
St. Mary chimes, last breath of day
she kneels aside his box of clay,
snapping nails in soured trench
to join beloved, lost.
...
flutter beyond Stream,
O Nymph of lichen green;
your Soldier awaits
by the river lye;
...
wires don't connect,
earth's sounds, too profound-
anxiety mistaken,
spoiled rotten
...
hanging from bone-tree,
bright, robust and waiting
for you to taste
the candied sunshine-
...
Jennifer lives in Ontario, Canada, with her two young children. She writes to share.)
Missing Spring
winter crushes
the promise of April,
a string of robins
shiver at my window;
heavy breasts huff
in the cold. a child
digs for spring
with burnt cheeks;
my hopeful tulips
depart. I have
tea to replace
your warmth,
and for breakfast,
a mouthful of words
I forgot to send
with you-
my tears offer the
poinsettia
the only relief
it deserves,
and I realize,
the more we grow,
the lonlier
I become