Winter on Vine St., Natalya Critchley, 2017.
By
Renée Szostek
Claudio Mendoza
Timothy Adès
Snow-covered branches
become bright, lacy patterns
against the gray sky.
Icy ferns trace my window
as temperatures go down
January cold
skiing in the Alps, or else
April, village slush
I stroll amidst the snow. An
early robin chirps of spring.
My boots are too wet
yet many miles to the pub.
Fly me to your nest
London winters are mild now
not like Michigan, I guess
Depressed by dreary
drifts of snow, I long for warmth,
of winter weary.
Sunday roast, walk on the moor.
Cheer up, love, the Super Bowl
Claudio Mendoza 