short poem day

February 1, 2026

/ HJ / Leave a comment

it blows into february
the air of awful anticipation on its wing
the cold burning even colder
than january’s sting
at least there’s snow
from the first month’s storm
whitening the ground
providing [minimal] distraction
from second month’s
curse

January 24, 2026

/ HJ / Leave a comment

the swell of the smell of
baking bread
with the spices still entwined
in the ridges and lines
of my hands

[the morning between
an economic blackout day
and a snow day]
[we can be a cozy, homey couple
when we want to be]