Snapshot 12 January 02005

wednesday again
    winter storm
        warning

raccoon tracks
    around
        the frozen pond

fish deeply
    sleeping still
        insomnia

squires me
    long lit
        nights & short

dim days
    pressed warm
        against me

this dog’s
    paws twitch
        & busy

in the garden
    one tailless   
        squirrel

sparrows
    pine siskins
        black-capped

chickadees
    piliated
        woodpecker

raven boasting
    from atop
        the tallest

spruce ice
    on tree
        limbs ice

on mine
    sleep
        a clumsy

skate
    on thick
        rippled

surfaces
    and now
        the snow

snowflake

8 responses to “Snapshot 12 January 02005”

  1. I like a lot.

  2. I do too. Its fragmented lines & barely linked images capture perfectly the drift back & forth across the boundary between sleeping & waking.

  3. your poetry always speaks to me…love the clean words and images

  4. Very good poem but is it me or did you change the shape of it ? I thought it look another way last night. I could be wrong.

  5. Lovely imagery. I like the flow of one thought into the next.

  6. You have raccoons? I don’t believe we have any of those up here … but all the rest, yup, and they are what keeps this death-freeze at bay, I tell ya. There is nothing so warm-heartening as seeing a flock of black-capped chickadees swoop in to strip the black spruce pine trees in the front yard of whatever it is they are eating, right in the middle of the deep-freeze when everything is frozen in place like statues in a creepy, hushed museum. Or, maybe that should be: mausoleum? 🙂
    Lovely poem, SB. You’re my winter inspiration.

  7. The poem’s visual structure matches the tone of the poem and the feeling of a quiet winter’s day.
    Lovely. Thank you for sharing it with us.

  8. Cathy — you are quite right, I broke all the rules and revised, repeatedly, after the first posting. This one took awhile to find.
    Kate — I was told that there were no raccoons in Juneau, but there was at least one — I looked up one day to find it staring at me through the skylight. I hope it was not an escaped pet who could not care for itself.
    Thank you all for the comments on this piece; I’ve been in need of encouragement lately, and you have provided.

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