KateMcCarrollMoore

I wish I had an owl

a small brown

wide eyed screecher

like the one who’s made a home

on Margaret’s front porch this winter

there he rests, nestled

between paneled ceiling and bricked ledge

nearly invisible, quietly still —

waiting

turning his head slowly to watch the indifferent dogs,

the little boy painting rocks on the porch,

or Margaret reading mysteries in the sunlit window

waiting for dusk, following moonrise

across treetops, chasing starshine

with a whoosh of wings

soundless soloist, stealthy stalker

disappearing into darkness

without a trace, like magic

Yesterday, while a radical mob

tried to destroy democracy

I baked muffins with the babies

2 granddaughters, in ruffled aprons and diapers

sat at the counter in their high chairs and stirred

beside me, adding sugar, oohing as the eggs fell

dramatically from cracked shells into waiting bowls

counting out the paper cups and

spooning batter generously

we waited till the timer beeped

then sat on the floor taking small warm bites

infused with love and berry kindness

holding the rioting world at bay

Winter squall announced itself

by snowplow’s amber lights, streaking

slow across my bedroom wall

by morning, December steeped in stillness

driveway drifts rose three feet tall

neighbor boys broomed backyard rink

I laced up new white skates, as frosty

flakes sustained their silent fall, later

dragging red saucer and sled, answering

snowbanks’ siren call, we spent all day

laughing, ignoring the cold, careening

down hills — wooed by whistling wind

I hold a snowglobe in my mind, shake it till it shimmers

Long winter settles into view, frozen childhood glimmers

Solstice

Brings glad tidings

In the shape of a star

Night sky, bright shimmering prayer

Hope-filled

Nightsky

Planets align, cosmic clockwork

Timeless moon, boundless hope

December bright

Solstice

line of white cars

parked in a polite row

out they step, one by one

clutching oversized satchels

donning freshly pressed denim

and sky-high boots

unmasked and hugging

their privilege close

laughter ringing, high and bright

ignoring the sting & December’s cold bite

My art teacher paints these

virtual cloud lessons

speaking with precision

first, prepare your palette

use a rosemary brush

you must start with the white

then add in some Payne’s grey

above this green tree line

blend using gentle strokes

I do just as he says

my amateur eye sees

what my hand can’t get right

the sky is too blue and

I leave out the old barn

he’s painting a landscape

but as hard as I try

I’m painting a dreamscape

an impressionist scene