Fickle February: poems

 

CINQUAINS

 

A warm

winter day. I

bring four smallish houseplants

outside for a spate of fresh air.

Me, too.

 

 

Doves call,

dogs bark and folks

pass, returning from work.

Nearby, a robin chitters. Oh,

such peace.

 



Perfect

as a flower-

show speciman, except

the iris blossoms several months

early.

 

 

Heater

warming the cats,

while I use a lap robe--

gift from my son last Christmas--to

keep warm.

 

 

Racket

in the dining

room--small gray legs climbing

the screen until I rap the loose

window.

 

 

The whump

of the blackbirds

leaving. Another whump

when they returned. The airplane adds

a drone.