Snow Globe

Snow falls to quiet
a morning of winter
unsettled by cold

a bird calls
from the wire
along the evergreens

that block salt
spit out by
predatory dumps

garden chimes
undisturbed 
by the flurry

enjoy the respite
from northern blows
sedated by flurries.

I'll See You Again

God willin’
if the creek don’t rise,
I’ll see you again.

Tho’ you weren’t ever mine to hold,
you held my name, 
called it out for strangers to hear-
it didn’t mean much to me then,
but now, as time has passed,
I find that you weren’t lying.
I can feel it most days
even though you’re gone.
It beats in a step next to my stride;
I’ve lost the details and sense that I knew it all;
but the big feeling, the one that you sent 
when you shouted my name,
breathes. The diaphragm draws in and out
beating the rhythm of us.

And if the creek don’t rise,
I’ll hear you say my name next to me.
God willin’, I’ll see you again.