Seasons Turn

This is a roundabout poem done in 8, 6, 4, 4, 6 syllables per stanza and in the rhyme scheme of abccb/bcddc/cdaad/dabba. Enjoy!

IMG_5087

Seasons pass as changes abound

Spring lopes in like a deer

flowers blooming

pollen looming

sinus never feels clear.

Summer sun wakes the birds, I fear.

Morning song is screeching

bury my head

deep in the bed

pillow drowns the chirping.

Crispy autumn leaves are falling

Bare trees reveal cold dread

dried worms are found

birds mute their sound

remember coming dead.

Visions swirling inside my head

Snow mounds growing higher

What’s that I hear?

A song of cheer?

Writing time’s come around

 

Drawing Down Winter

img_2827

Drawing down winter brings in the cold…

from outside to inside, then into my bones.

Arthritis flares up and makes me feel old,

drawing down winter brings in the cold.

To rid us of snow, I need to get bold,

icy wind blows as I scrape down to stones.

Drawing down winter brings in the cold…

From outside to inside, then into my bones.

A Winter Moment

img_2091

The sky began to cloud over as the man watched the woodchuck shimmy back under his shed. The man loved that shed. It was the largest one he could afford and held two riding lawnmowers, several tomato cages, garden fencing, garden tools and his winter shovels. Even with all those items, he still had room to walk around, as long as he did not bump his head on the low overhead beams.

“That damn thing, will it never move out?” he whispered as his breath fogged the glass on the door.

The man jerked slightly as four deer ran across the yard. His eyes followed them and he became aware that he had fallen deep into his thoughts when they had startled him. He shook his head and then glanced at two bird feeders near the birdbath to check for visitors, and then to the corncob holder before looking back to the shed.

After his wife had died, he started feeding the birds and squirrels. He knew woodchucks were mean and felt no love for it. Today he had spotted it sitting on its hind legs under one of his apple trees, chomping away on a fallen apple like it had no cares in the world. When the man stepped to the door to watch the creature, it had stopped chewing for a moment, looked around and then resumed its meal.

A couple of days before the snow hit, the man had noticed teeth marks on the apple trees and worried for their survival. He watched to see what type of repellent he would need to buy to prevent future gnawing.

Descending deep into his thoughts again, he wondered if the woodchuck had saved a stash of apples for winter, or if it had dug the rotting fruit out from under the snow.

He also wondered if the nasty creature would chew out the floor of the shed. Replacing the floor would be a good idea for spring, just to be sure that his new zero turn lawn mower did not fall into the animal’s den.

He dropped his hands from his pockets and turned toward the kitchen. “I’d better start a list,” he said softly to no one as he walked through the quiet house.

Taking a notebook and pen from the drawer next to the stove, he leaned on the counter and began to write. “Check the floor of the shed, shoot the woodchuck, wrap the apple trunks and spray the trees…” His head lifted as he thought of other jobs.

Movement caught the man’s attention, so he dropped the pen and walked around the island to the window above the sink to peer out. The assumed bird was already gone, so he looked toward the shed again. Now that snow had fallen, he checked for tracks, but found none close to the house. Maintaining two acres was no easy task for a man his age, but it sure was pretty in the winter.

He let out a sigh as he focused his thoughts back on spring. He felt a peaceful joy when he contemplated putting new flowers around the tree he had planted with her ashes. He wanted her near him until his own death.

He sighed again and turned to pour himself a cup of steaming coffee. He then carried it to the table to resume his watch on the wildlife. He whispered toward the window, “It’s too bad we never had any children… someone else to carry on taking care of the land and orchard. There’ll be nobody to care for her tree… or to plant one for me.”

Save

This Ohio Winter

What is this I see?

It’s no snow in January.

Where has the snow all gone?

Global warming, anyone?

Growing up in Minnesota

in winter, we always had a coat on.

Shoveled the sidewalk in New York,

to get to the snow blower, for easier work.

Though at times I think

California’s climate is the pink,

While I live in Ohio

I really don’t like it so mild.

This pathetic winter we’re having

has my whole family scathing.

When can we light the fireplace?

When can we go ice skate?

The heating bill is low,

can’t complain about that – I know.

The coffee, hot chocolate and tea

all still taste the same to me.

Though I may sit and imagine

And work yarn – as is my passion –

the truth is… the grass is still green;

though I just pretend not to see.