I Want To Believe I want to believe a scarlet sky Promises sunshine. Don’t know why They say red skies mean turbulence— To me it doesn’t make much sense. I want to believe in love again And all the things that might have been: The velvet dust on a moon moth’s wings, And fanciful shapes of color; things Now put aside so we can tweet And twitter, to make our lives complete. After a Freeze After a freeze, the ground is hard and sere. Hard ice piles up upon the crusted snow. Dry plants shrink back. They seem to show their fear, As I do when I think back on the flow Of time, and shrink a little in my shell. I know I’ve learned my lesson very well: That every crack in armor writes a line, And in the end you’ll use it in a rhyme. A former Wilbur Fellow and six-time Pushcart nominee, Sally Cook is a regular contributor to National Review, and has appeared in venues as varied as Chronicles, Lighten Up On Line, and TRINACRIA. Also a painter, her present works in the style known as Magic Realism are represented in national collections such as the N.S.D.A.R. Museum in Washington, D.C. and The Burchfield-Penney, Buffalo, NY.