featherspoem #3
middle of the night I used to run outside bare feet on snow gazing up in breathless wonder straining to see before the scudding clouds the gibbous moon that invisible wedge its presence pledged by cacophonous gabble filling the sky I drank in the promise of spring winds snowdrops tawny grass turning green and the promise oh the promise of everything possible and at the fading sound awed returned to warmth and bed but now geese don’t go anywhere they just sit around all winter with earmuffs on © Jacqueline Jackson 2006
This article appears in Mar 16-22, 2006.
