Yesterday I thought winter had given up

all its images: white worn out,

utter glut of neutral.

But today, weird

mitt-ruts.

Snowbank

etchings

from kids

dawdling

their hands

to school;

 

overhead another storm

isn't breaking

but is moving on:

the elm-edge and the cloud edge

slotting into each other.

 

As if the tree picked up

the sky secondhand,

and wears it― 

a sapphire heavened hoodie

in the black and white film

of early March.

 

The,

expertly,

the elm-clutch

lets loose, disrobes.

A sliver of blue expands,

becomes a sluice, a gorge,

 

As if the tree picked up

the sky secondhand,

and wears it― 

a sapphire heavened hoodie

in the black and white film

of early March.

 

[from One Thing ― Then Another, 2019, published by, and available for purchase at, ECW Press]