‘Winter Smoke’ and Other Poetry by Mary Kay Simmons

Winter Smoke

Winter smoke and little houses
Drawing blinds against the dark
The cold, the crying wind
Against a stark

White moon

Winter smoke. Wispy phantoms
Casting a ghostly veil
Of patterned, ancient symbols
Against a pale

White moon

Sweet-scented turf recalling
Times more pleasingly mellow
Winter smoke reaching the sky
To touch a yellow

Gold moon

Audubon in Appalachia

The stomach of a bird is small,
In fact, it’s hardly there at all.
To distinguish it from other stomachs
(That is, of tiger or of dumb ox)
We say: “This fledgling’s crop, his craw,
Is sometimes also called his maw,
Though maw is just a general word
Meaning stomach, but a bird
Is different. Kindly speak sans flaw
A bird’s crop is his own craw’s maw”.

© Mary Kay Simmons

Mary Kay Simmons is a novelist who published 18 books.

Featured Image: “Evening scene with full moon and person,” by Abraham Pether.

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