How the Poet Learns from Snowbound
by Tricia Knoll

Every sentence has potential to sparkle. If not, let it lie silent on other flakes
and look for a footstep or a pawprint to suggest a new path.

An icicle glints in the sunbeam, a prism. And in moonlight, its glassy
twist lights the theater of tragedy or midnight romance.

A bit of thaw, one day at a time, and the ice dam drips. Short minutes
at noon, words may drip if they cannot gush.

The bird feeder witnesses to winter’s hunger. The insatiable
desire for nurturing, nutrition. Needed feeding

to keep wings beating. Thesaurus on the table. Anthologies
on the night stand. Pecks of haiku. Suet of sonnets.

Fear lumpy sidewalk ice? Strap on traction cleats and imagine skating.
Welcome glides. Wind in your hair. Escape. Free verse.

PAINTING:La Pie (The Magpie) by Claude Monet (1868-1869).

NOTE FROM THE…