Winter Poems

These poems recently appeared in The Weekly Avocet. I hope you enjoy them.

Owl Time

Thoughts of winter are a quagmire.
Others hear death in an owl’s call.
In the winter moon’s light, they see darkness.
I hear the owl defending a territory.
The other answers, and they meet.
In winter trees, they dance the dance
that preserves their species.
If another calls, they repel the intruder.
In the howl of the coyote,
the call of the owl,
and the eyeshine of the deer,
I hear the breath of life.


Cranes

Their voices call to my ears,
pull my eyes skyward,
heard before sighted,
Sandhills from Michigan.
Cranes overhead wing southward,
call my thoughts to fly with them
to Okefenokee or the Gulf Coast of Florida.
The cranes arrive,
bring their news of winter,
their voice compared to barking geese,
to the bugling of wild elks.
These are no geese,
their words no honk,
no barnyard bark for them.
It is a rattling coo,
doves amplified 1000 times.
Arrows shot from a bow,
they neither swoop nor slow,
they rocket southward,
abandon me here
rooted to the ground. Ray Zimmerman

A Wall of Cold

The crunch of snow beneath my feet defined winter.
Snowmen and snowball fights gave way to sledding.
Snowmen and snowball fights gave way to sledding.
Racing downhill, I avoided obstacles.
Racing downhill, I avoided obstacles.
Later, I drove and avoided ice patches.
Later, I drove and avoided ice patches.
Sunglasses protected my eyes from glare.
Sunglasses protected my eyes from glare.
I still relished a cup of hot chocolate at the end of the trip.
I still relished a cup of hot chocolate at the end of the trip.
Today I hibernate to avoid the wall of cold outside my door.
Today I hibernate to avoid the wall of cold outside my door.
I miss the crunch of snow beneath my feet.