First Snow

First snow, just a dusting
Covering the ground
Like sugar on a donut.
Cold wind swirls
Twists and wraps
Flakes around
The trees.

Stealthy Winter

How quietly winter slips in
Her stealth brings her unnoticed.
Whispering around the corners 
Of barns, smokehouses
And cabins with secrets
Of snow and frost.








Yet she will pour her anger out
Her fury will beat down
On house and home.
Her anger will pile up
With the snow drifting
Along the fence rows.

I watched as a tiny sparrow
Flew to the door of a workshop
Landed on the open door
Looked intently into the dark
Warm and musty room.

I wonder what he thought
What he was looking for
Why did he sit calmly
What was he pondering?

Remember?

Do you remember?
Where you were
Who stood by your side?
When the news came
When you first saw the horror?

It is an image
That is seared
Into the backs of my eyes
Burned into my brain.

Images that will never fade
Shock that doesn't ease
The sight of men, women
Jumping to their death
Can you imagine
A situation
When that is the best option?

Copyright 9/11/2006 Stephen Hollen

Misty morning

The first day of September
Brings a promise of fall
A promise of crisp mornings.

It is a glimpse of quilt
snuggling

Of woolen shirts,
flannel and sweater
Weather.

The first day of September whispers
Promises of orange, yellow and red leaves
Decorating the trees, glorious maples, stately oaks, sassy burning bush.


Fall is lurking,
Hiding in the mornings
Crawling around like a night beast
Seeking to devour summer.

You can see it in the mist
That gathers round the houses
Lingers longer each day
As sunrise sleeps in just a little longer.

Fall is glorious, a cool and calculating lover.