On this day
with its yellow brick sun
as it hides between
the puffy munchkin clouds
and behind the dark emerald hills
Suddenly
the white fliers
crystalline witches
on holly broom sticks
in a swarm that clothes the air
in this chill accompanied
by swirls and sudden shifts
of these lifeless crones
as they attack the old
on sidewalks and doorsteps
Upset trees wave their arms
in warning
Evil billions pile their magic
on the edges of sinless water
afraid of its goodness
though many are doused
as if melted by a pail
of trout-tossed water
The stored spring melt
flows in toto
passed the stones that scream
in this monkey-tail canyon
through torches of light
between winter and spring
This house falls
on its faceless occupants
who wear home bound slippers
their feet curling back
under striped blankets
with courage to keep
hearts warm
and brains from boredom
a snowy day
in the Black Hills
yo-ee-oh
Copyright ©
2013 by Barry G. Wick All rights reserved.
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