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.

 



Seventy degrees by dusk in central Arkansas

For the first time in several weeks, I took the old notebook, pen and newspaper outside to the porch swing. It was 50 degrees at 8 am.

HAIKU
sunny winter day
titmouse on the gutter sings
and doves call
~~~
a lone goose flies
into the sun's round brightness
this first day of Lent
~~~
broken branch dangles
and sways on the old oak tree
I hear spring peepers
~~~

RUSH HOUR
Mocker
on the high wire
tries to out-sing the noise
of passing cars this warm winter
morning
~~~

The wind kicked up as predicted, so I betook myself and my materials back inside to the dining table where I not only read/write, buy occasionally eat.
Later on toward dusk, I took the puzzles and once again sat in the swing.

HAIKU
warm winter dusk
the sounds of children outside
spawning memories
~~~
as dusk falls
my eyes and the newsprint
words fail to connect
~~~

c 2012 by Pat Laster dba lovepat press