Her Secret



She radiates joy. Joy

sizzles and pops around her,

a force field of Sun in

miniature, multiplied –

reflected off a thankful

heart; its power persists

in shadows, transcends

rainy days, stands true

through fog and storm

and cloud and clear skies

alike. Her secret?

She spends time in the Light…

Snow Has Outstayed Her Welcome


She’s always underfoot,

she gets in my hair,

she smothers my sidewalk

and obscures the air.

Her habit of blanketing

my windshield in white

is no longer funny –

I think it quite trite.

She outright refuses

to melt or to leave –

revenge is my hairdryer

shoved up my sleeve…