Lulled by a Late Snowfall: “Iowa Dreams”

A few days ago, snow dusted the southern landscape. Winter’s last blast showed up in a flurry of images on social media. Memory took me back to my time in Iowa. Yards seemed snowbound from November to March. I once stepped outside for a midnight sojourn in a still garden—and walked away with a poem.

Hope Peeps Eternal Thanks to the Persistent Crocus

“Where flowers bloom so does hope.” This quote by Lady Bird Johnson, who championed environmental conservation and wildflower beautification, always stuck with me. Crocuses pushing up from the snow (or bare ground) promises renewal. The spring equinox is almost upon us. The poem “Fauve Crocuses” marks the coming season.

Why I Love Appalachia: “Blue Ridge Weather Report”

In this glorious, but all-too-brief season in Appalachia, killing frost silences the nights except for the rustle of branches. Color steals across the trees, and leaves begin to drop. I wrote this poem after relocating to the South and falling in love (again) with autumn in the Blue Ridge.