Verse
Westerfield, Nancy G.
Nancy G, Westerfield Smoke In the morning the old man Is up early, out filling his birdbath; "Even in December," he says, "they come If there's water to be had;" True enough, A cardinal waits...
...in the garden Frost is burning away like last night's Dream of a woman in his bed...
...Already he has done a washerload the way She taught him before her requiem, And the dryer vents from the cellar Like a fumarole, wreathing him shoes To head in spitfires of steam...
...16 January 1987: 19...
...the ice smokes Where he is spigoting warmth over freeze...
...Sidelong, his breath takes wing on the air Like a white bird...
...True enough, A cardinal waits like a purl Of scarlet yarn knit into the juniper...
...The sun Burns higher, smoking the mists of darkness Over the world's edge...
Vol. 114 • January 1987 • No. 1
