By Deanna Tiefenthal

I

Early March wind
Drifting snow
climbs the trees

II

How can the bird
learn to land
without first learning to fly?

III

Silent snow under
cold dormant trees—
Trail of tiny pawprints

IV

Skunk waves his plume
Ignores the dogs
barking at the window

V

Shadows cower and hide
from the eclipse
of the moon

VI

Ceiling fan
creates spiders
in the bowl of my spoon

VII

Sun setting through frosted trees
leaves behind
a creek of gold

Published in Unreal City: Literature of the Twenty-first Century