January Ice.

Fire and Ice - by Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.




January Cat

4 degrees tonight.
I watched you cross the snow.

Wary.

I’ve purposely made you wary of me.
Killer of birds.

The birds I feed at well-stocked feeders.

Earlier this year, in the softer seasons,
your eyes followed me from the field, the driveway,
from beside the shrine to my dead aunt
at the edge of the woods.

Now my eyes follow you, belly-deep in snow.

I see your paw prints disappearing beneath the porch
where I imagine you spend these long winter nights
curled among last summer's leaves.

Please find the chicken pieces I dropped beneath the swing.
And dream a dream of birds
and a full-bellied spring.


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