poem 61 of a poem a day for 2012

march hare seeds

the simple grace of snow
caught whispered in
the yellow sodium light
strung along the streets
in the wired poles leaned weight
in the trees waiting all covered in white

there are many reasons
to treason our souls,to skate thin ice
a tucked ripe vine hidden beneath
a pine bough across the street
knows to be a reminder of the succulence
of bare throats laid out as wreaths

the promise of breathing is in our exhale
the way a smile almost always forms
when we let go of all the things that hold
too near to the pocketed kept of untidy
those ghosts of ivy leaving footprints here
where love is always our blood's story retold

EJR (c)