toll booth lit for Christmas —
from my hand to hers
warm change
Tag: winter
old snow
the streetwalker
gives Santa a hug
dew frost ~
the horse shivers off
crystal light
with a crooked branch
I knock the last leaf
off the tree
winter nightfall
no more bread–
I’m a shovel in the hand
of winter
silent snow
the coldness
between us
whirling snow
divorce papers fall
from a red folder
Midwinter snowstorm
highway at a standstill
I mistake the vagrant
for my long-dead father
his smile so vacant
winter stars without you to name them
winter dusk
when dad
would phone
snow all night
the silence
thickens
winter mist
the scarecrow’s heart
a nesting sparrow
desert morning
a coyote licks ice
on the tumbleweed
deep snow —
I put my feet
in your footsteps
so like bones
the bone-white branches
of the birch tree
cold morning
touching my breasts
remembering
traffic jam —
from everywhere the snow
heading nowhere
a stone
next to a frozen pond
I long to skip
to another time
another place
Pelham Parkway
between the winter trees
the child’s breath
deep snow …
the acorn
up to its cap
shortest day—
the waiting room clock
at the ICU
January thaw
dog-walkers greet
leashed strangers
Winter Stars
My neighbor fills her winter garden with oaktag cut-outs of red and yellow stars—hangs them from her bird feeder or glues them atop the planting sticks she’s
dead of winter
a wraith from the dryer vent
drifts through the fence
midwinter night
light from the snow
the stars
snow flurry on an empty street the traffic light turns red
a jarful of coins
from faraway places
winter stars
New ice
Tinywords Invites You to Get Inspired
And now for something a little different. While we are assembling the next issue, tinywords invites you to get inspired by Dave
Writing prompt for Issue 15.1
It’s another new year and with it another writing prompt from your friends here at tinywords. This photo is courtesy of writer, blogger, photographer Dave