Shattered fragments of a whole
Smashing up against the shoreline
Spring births from
her winter-white hibernation
Where do we slumber, too
Lost in thoughts of everything but now
Coaxed out of hiding by the fierce
Ferry boat sails in the open channel
amid the fragments
of your dreams
Carefully holding a bouquet
of ice shards
As your fingers drip puddles on the
grey and cracked sidewalk below
You lick your rosy-red
Wrapping frosted fingers
around a still steaming mug
Sip deeply from the heart
Anndale McTavish says
Your poems arrived as a blessing. I was feeling disgruntled cabin feverish, and then I began reading. I ‘be admired your works of art at Nancy Scovil’s.
Your poems transformed my outlook and thus my day. They opened my gratefulness. I am greatly in your debt.
Thank you Anndale. And your message transformed my day. And so the ripple, of the pebble tossed into the pond, continues beyond the shoreline to any who open to receive.