By Thomas Page


The hues of winter

Like a forgotten photo

Are rich in mem’ry.


The orang’d leaves, champions

of Autumn, remain strong on

Hibernating trees.


The frozen pond like

The artisan’s glass imbued

With imperfections.


Time gushes like a

Wound while traffic like white blood

Cells clot up cars.


The birds seek refuge

On perch of birdfeeders

Feet above the snow.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s