Daily Archives: March 18, 2011

Poet Biographies

The milk and eggs
on the shopping list
are not ornate, but necessary.

The last bits of snow and ice
that hide in shadows and ditches,
like glacial remnants,
melt slowly to feed the fingerlakes
and other tributaries.


In a basket of copper coins,
a quarter sits wedged,
ridge to surface,
but will be plucked out
and placed with others
of its own kind
for snacks, laundry
and games of chance.


The door latch clicks
on the sliding glass door
to the back porch,
but she stills sees
the stack of opened mail on the kitchen counter
and the half-finished cup of ginseng tea.