Valentine's Day

Only a handful of people know me . . . and among this tiny enclave, it is a select few who read (or who want to read) any of my work in progress.  And, because I write across so many genres, even these select few are surprised when my name shows up in print.  In fact, I often get to surprise my wife by showing her essays and articles (and sometimes even whole books) as they appear in print for the first time.  Usually, her comment is: "That's nice, dear."

In the coming weeks I do have several "love" poems that are slated for publication, along with several essays and books, but none of them are going to arrive in time for Valentine's Day . . . when I could truly express my love and appreciation by opening up pages and pointing to my byline.  But for those who have contributed to my writing in recent weeks, or otherwise made it possible for me to make my way into print every month, I am truly grateful.  I have many to thank (and you know who you are).  But I'm especially indebted to Tom, Ginger, Andy, Perry, Andy, Sarah, Dan, and Amy in recent weeks.  Thank you!

And although I do have some new poetry on the way in several journals/magazines, and therefore can't blog it here, I'll offer this one from my 2013 poetry journal as a Valentine's Gift to Becky.  (She won't be reading this, but that's a reality I have to live with.  We'll talk things over later while we are eating a can of Chunky soup on Valentine's Day.)  But here's one I wrote last winter. 

Snowfall

The weatherman says it is going to snow:

Rain forming to sleet, then turning cold.

I have prepared a can of soup

Such as one might find in any kitchen

Where people live in the dark,

Looking out on the brown lawn

With the expectation of winter.

Later, we will sit at the table

With crackers and cheese on a plate

And string a life together from days

Such as this, where we wait

With nothing at all to do.

Sharing a bowl of silence

That is more than enough for two.