the sun stands midway
between my hands
as I reach for icicles
from the eaves
while rosehips hang
frosted with snow
solstice bread
rises in the grate
I open curtains
for my lost love
About Joanna M. Weston
Joanna M. Weston is married and has two cats, multiple spiders, a herd of deer, and two derelict hen-houses. Her middle reader, Frame and The McGuire, was published by
Tradewind Books; and her poetry book, A Summer Father, was published by Frontenac House of Calgary. Her eBooks are available at her blog: http://www.1960willowtree.wordpress.com/
3 Comments
Lovely and poignant, Joanna, both the poem and the photo.
–Theresa
Hi Joanna from IWW! This is a beautiful little poem. Solstice bread and the descriptions are so vivid and then the final line – unexpected!
many thanks, Theresa and Anita. I’m so glad you liked
this poem.