Poetry Pick

EARLY MORNING
OF THE FIRST SNOW

for Gilda Mekler, 1954 - 2007

by James Deahl
Ontario, Canada

We awaken to the season's first snow.
Wind-pushed flakes tear through the naked locust,
past the remnant rags of my sumac
tossing their wild red against a slate sky.
Already November 8th, this foretaste
of winter late this year - a few trees green
Gage Park: their act of stubborn defiance.

Not one window in this old house shuts tight.
Knives of frost enter everywhere, stab deep
exposed skin, the wayward foot escaping
the duvet. We hold fast to each other.
Your honeyed breasts scorch my bare chest; your tongue
flames so fiercely the whole world disappears.

 

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