Sheaf-shriven winds pick up movement,
Gathering sounds, moon-backed driven.
Whistles to bats with joyful division,
Slip-sliding through a mild winter’s eve.

Sitter shivers, pleased with vapors,
Gathering stars, and limpid thoughts.
Whispers to cats with reckless aplomb,
Dither-dathering with Winter’s mild eye.

Blackness quivers, calling Dippers!
Disappearing, while eyes see naught.
Winnow restarts, without Wisdom,
Tip-toeing toward Spring, through winter’s pale heart.

Sea-sawing forward, big ladle’s handle,
Expels cooling laughter, almost complete.
Welcoming wha’ts, with thankful respect,
Swish-swashling in a mild winter’s eve.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 2/9/12