Herewith, the latest selection from dusted-off published poetry and short fiction, circa 1970s vintage and beyond....
Winter Morning
Early morning
and we peer
through frosted windows.
The sky
a great shadow
shifts slowly
to living cobalt.
The moon
dangles
a silver sliver.
On the horizon
the preternatural
glow of dawn.
In the cedars
redpolls stirring.
From the houses
smoke lazily rising
mingling
with the chill.
The snow lies
a plush blanket
the earth interred.
We bate breath
awaiting the afternoon
of seasons
a new arising.
c. 1978 Rita Rosenfeld
published in Gusto, A Literary/Poetry Journal, Volume 1
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