The month of March got ya down?  Here are a couple poems to fit the season…

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Footsteps along the walking woods

 

Even then, although the senses note otherwise,

as if under a cover of snow, warmed by earth

with no need of light, at least what we’d call

light, an overcast day we’d call depressing,

the fog of twilight in a graveyard,

motionless, deaf, yet drawn toward

not the obvious ones,

the climbing squirrels, skittering chipmunks

ears flat against the cold

but the unseen ones, a sound

smaller than a broken twig

in the throat of the blind woods

that could perhaps become…

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Dig here

 

Be sure to leave water

for the dog

any dog that wanders by

surely thirsty

head down

tongue scratching

at the concrete

as if under to find you