Two Odes to March

As I Go From Here

I’ll look up at the sky
As I lie in the snow of March
Smiling, staring up
And the sky will be blue.
The trees will be bare
At the end of winter.
The sky will be blue
With the sound of the
Wind and Waves.

Partridge Tracks

An abortive thaw makes for a
Thin crust.
Attenuated ice crystals
Glisten where they pucker
On the ridge, in the sundown,
Where the partridge went by.
The roar of the pines, hushing.