Winter Dream
by Mary Sexson
The winter storm effect brings crowds
to the stores, lines to stand in,
the most coveted items sold out,
and we wait, see if our patience holds.
Late tonight I want to wake up
and make note of the snow,
count the flakes and guess their
accumulations, I want to gaze out
the upstairs window and look down
on the literal abundance of it, enough
to hold us all in, keep us to our chairs
and couches, books opened, movies on,
popcorn popped, the interior
defined by our presence, our gaze
to the fire, we will use words like
cozy and snug, we will chuckle softly
as we get another blanket from the basket.
A Rabbit in Winter
by Mary Sexson
The rabbit’s tracks go over the top
of the snow, all the way across
the yard to the fence, where you
can see he got out. Caught
in this urban sprawl he has
learned to deal with barriers.
I used to see him every morning,
alert in my front yard, assessing
the day, wind riffling his fur, he
did not let himself be disturbed
by me, or the bumbling city
noise that surrounded him.
Now I wonder where his warren is,
if he has one here under these
snow-covered squares of green,
or the ribbons of concrete
that border them. I’d like to imagine
a world of rabbits beneath this
city side street, snug in the womb
of the earth, riding out the winter.
Bio: Mary Sexson is the author of the book 103 in the Light, Selected Poems 1996-2000 (Restoration Press, 2004), nominated for a Best Books of Indiana award in 2005. She is the co-author of Company of Women, New and Selected Poems (Chatter House Press, 2013) with Jayne Marek and Lylanne Musselman. Her poems have appeared in various literary publications, and her newer work is included in several anthologies, including The Globetrotter’s Companion (Lion Lounge Press, London, 2011), A Few Good Words (Cincinnati Writer’s Project 2013), and the online site, New Verse News (2013). She has forthcoming work in the Reckless Writing Anthology (Chatter House Press).
by Mary Sexson
The winter storm effect brings crowds
to the stores, lines to stand in,
the most coveted items sold out,
and we wait, see if our patience holds.
Late tonight I want to wake up
and make note of the snow,
count the flakes and guess their
accumulations, I want to gaze out
the upstairs window and look down
on the literal abundance of it, enough
to hold us all in, keep us to our chairs
and couches, books opened, movies on,
popcorn popped, the interior
defined by our presence, our gaze
to the fire, we will use words like
cozy and snug, we will chuckle softly
as we get another blanket from the basket.
A Rabbit in Winter
by Mary Sexson
The rabbit’s tracks go over the top
of the snow, all the way across
the yard to the fence, where you
can see he got out. Caught
in this urban sprawl he has
learned to deal with barriers.
I used to see him every morning,
alert in my front yard, assessing
the day, wind riffling his fur, he
did not let himself be disturbed
by me, or the bumbling city
noise that surrounded him.
Now I wonder where his warren is,
if he has one here under these
snow-covered squares of green,
or the ribbons of concrete
that border them. I’d like to imagine
a world of rabbits beneath this
city side street, snug in the womb
of the earth, riding out the winter.
Bio: Mary Sexson is the author of the book 103 in the Light, Selected Poems 1996-2000 (Restoration Press, 2004), nominated for a Best Books of Indiana award in 2005. She is the co-author of Company of Women, New and Selected Poems (Chatter House Press, 2013) with Jayne Marek and Lylanne Musselman. Her poems have appeared in various literary publications, and her newer work is included in several anthologies, including The Globetrotter’s Companion (Lion Lounge Press, London, 2011), A Few Good Words (Cincinnati Writer’s Project 2013), and the online site, New Verse News (2013). She has forthcoming work in the Reckless Writing Anthology (Chatter House Press).