Monday, January 27, 2014

Winter Picnic-Table





For now
The birds may feed
Upon some drifting seed
That lodges there
Where ice and snow
And cold winds blow
Instead of sunbeams fair

For now
No bare or flip-flop feet
Will pause to rest a bit
No peanut-butter
And jam sandwiches
Enjoyed slow
As we sit
To languish in the high noon sun
Or sample summer-fare
Of garden-goodness
Freshly-picked
In sassafrass-sweet air
And for now we do not gather
At the supper-hour of day
To exchange love-laughing stories
Where the dappled shadows splay
Or to listen to the jortle
Of the robin and the lark
Sharing watermelon moments
Letting light slip into dark

No,
For now
We let warm memories
And echoes soft re-play
Over winter’s picnic table
Spring is not
Too
Far
Away

© Janet Martin


Cold anyone?
A little warm-up:)

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