Two poems for February (and they aren't about love)

Here are two more poems from college days. If anything, I hope they show that there is something interesting about the monochromatic high desert landscape. Both were published in contest issues of the New Era magazine in the 1980s.

The title of the first poem should be read as its first line. That was one way of dealing with the fact that I don't like coming up with titles. :)



In February

wind wears the ice
hoarded by hills and stone
spins sagebrush into gray phrases
thins like needles
of ponderosa shadow




February Solstice

Fog strays into predawn sage,
Stratum of night unshaping.

Crone-hands uncurl the revelation
of cottonwoods' naked grasp.

Her fingers thin into wind,
Groping for transparent spring.