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Richard Dinges, Jr.
Spring Thaw
Ice gone, water
grabs wind and waves
wild white fists
at sodden shore
covered in spume
and last fall’s dead
under a sky
emptied of gray,
into a blue
vacuum that promises
more than sun can
ever deliver
before winter wind
returns and holds
pond’s time in place
until warm wind
returns again.
Calm Night
Only when wind
ends will I breathe
freely again.
In early spring
silence at night
before insects
begin paltry
songs, I learn that
a beginning
is an end reached
too soon. Breathless,
I face the dark
horizon, gasp
a wish to fly
out on my own
burst of mighty air.
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