February 1, 2026

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

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]

December 24, 2025

eves are still for
excitement and
possibilities

no matter how old i grow
or how pessimistic i think i’m becoming
i still have the idea for what could be
just on my vision’s horizon

[i hope i never lose that]