Northwest Winter Day – Joan Moritz

You know morning
by the sheets of soft gray
flannel folded and stacked

back on their shelf of sky.
Afternoons are dingy
dirigibles, iron battleships,

looming cumulus, cold air
balloons. With all this weight
it’s a wonder we’re still walking.

But isn’t winter full of tricks?
By four, fat robins fill the trees
to trill their famous songs,

and every day by dusk
the window shade of cloud
is furled enough to show

a burning yellow inch
of daylight blazing from a party
on the other side of the world.

Joan MoritzJoan Moritz was born in New York City and has made her home in Seattle. Retired from a career translating numbers into stories (in a good way), she currently spends her time transcribing books into braille, walking in nearby parks, and writing. Her work has been published in Blue Lyra, Drash: Northwest Mosaic, The Fourth River, Poetica, and Tilt-a-Whirl.