New Year’s Eve —
the festive sound
of a snow plow

dusting of snow —
an old photograph
at the bottom of the drawer

serious santa

My grandson Gabriel seems very much preoccupied with the question of precisely who has been bad and good.

untitled

the subject reads “results guaranteed”
and I have to resist the urge
to point and click.
what’s wrong with me?
ankle deep in a slush puddle
I finally understand.

heavy snow —
two pigeons fight
over a cigarette butt

longest night —
the drip, drip, drip
of the ice dam

freezing rain —
the ferry lists
back and forth

December rain —
my broken heart

across the ocean
my granddaughter turns two —
fair weather clouds

Wednesday morning —
a train yard full
of rusty box cars

December night —
Venus and Jupiter
in the palm of my hand

missing the train —
the bitterness
of a premium coffee

for Righteous...

...who turns two on December 4th:

she is always making snow angels
in the winter of my dreams