Midwinter Poems
10 haiku and tanka from a cold and snowy Michigan winter
Snowdrift
Dune of snow, as sand, a perfect, white ridge crafted by the wind’s clear hands.
I’m hoping to get back to gardening this coming spring after three years of recovering from several injuries. This winter I’ve been refreshing my gardening knowledge in preparation, and the poem below is about this. It references in particular my much beloved (and very well worn) copy of The Vegetable Gardener’s Bible.
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The Garden Book
I open the old book. Closed, rested these three years, now it splays broad leaves wide and I contemplate the miraclescape of gardens.
Winter Housekeeping
Sorting and shelving books, basement miscellany, balming knuckles, lips, simmering pot after pot— the warmth of winter tending.
Sunrise
At twenty below the predawn sky fills with blues, light the color of ice.
Home
Gracious old house, bringing in the cold with its accustomed welcome.
At the Feeder
Songbirds plucking seeds scatter when the hawk streaks in to pluck a songbird.
Simplicity
The minimalist, winter, takes away our toys, lights up what remains.
Office Window
Near the space heater a field of ice flowers pressed up against cold glass.
Reminders
This day’s reminders— snow is not just beautiful as screened, but to skin is cold, is wet, and beef stock comes not from plastic, but bones.
Two Paths
Yesterday’s slanting track of prints or uncut snow’s stable resistance.