Invitation by Enoch Thompson

First Snow by Nonnecke

Excuse me, Winter,
Won’t you please come to tea
With the rustling wind
And yellow, red, falling leaves?

And when you leave,
Go giving a present–
A beautiful flower
Or butterfly pendant.

But please be swift.
The tea will be cooling
In the night wind.

With Love,
Sincerely,
Autumn

_______________________________________________________________________________

For Enoch’s bio and more poetry, go here.

Photo by Nonnecke.

the bully: winter by Linda Crate

Train_stuck_in_snow (photo taken 29 March 1881 by Emer and Tenney, Southern Minnesota, USA--public domain image)

the hand of winter stretched out
his grey gloves and poured snow
out of his pitcher it fell upon the
world in cold numbing waves it
washed away all the colors of fall €”

it beat back my favorite lilies into
the hand of white dust like people
are prone to beat one another into
the dust for a sense of self worth. I
don’t understand why winter thinks

he needs to be such a bully he beats
his cold fiercely upon the land blasts
his wailing banshee winds upon the
zephyr and rips remaining leaf missives
from trees with such force they yelp.

_________________________________________________________________________________

To read more of Linda’s verse on WIZ, go here and here.

a reflection made in snow by Linda Crate

428px-Snow_in_Colarado_in_the_United_States_of_America by Tim McCabe (public domain image)

I watched as the white of snow
starched the earth clean of sins €”

like the Savior washed me white
by his blood.   It seemed a stark

contrast of his shedding white for
red and the earth shedding scarlet

for white, but I think He favors the
irony just as much as we do. I stood

in the bone numbing cold of winter,
letting its reflection embrace me tight.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

To read Linda’s bio and more of her poetry on WIZ go here.

winter’s breath by Linda Crate

514px-Northern_Cardinal_Male-27527-2 by Ken Thomas (public domain)

I watched the world around me;

winter swallowed me in snow €”

the skies were somber and grey.

Only a cardinal pierced the scene

of melancholy waves that washed

their newness upon the earth with

the promise of renewed hope.   As

the pains of yesterday were taken

from the land in ivory tears, I was

poured into chalices of reflection.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Linda CrateLinda Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh and raised in the rural town of Conneautville. She has a Bachelors in English-Literature from Edinboro University. Her poetry has appeared in several magazines the latest of which include: Skive, The Scarlet Sound, Speech Therapy, Itasca Illinois & Willowtree Dreams, Dead Snakes, Carnage Conservatory, and The Camel Saloon.