Sunday Morning: A Winter Poem

by

 

Outside the drizzle finds oak rags
        solemn on their limbs,
and sets against the radio hymns
        its own rough-measured drops.

 The toaster pops its little plume
        that lingers as I drip and stop
the honey spout, sweet almost-lips
        I circle with my finger.

 

First published in Mostly Maine.

 

Woods road on the Valparaiso Moraine in Indiana, photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer

Woods road behind my parents’ house on the Valparaiso Moraine in Indiana. The marsh is seen below and the back woods beyond. Photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

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