January Squall

and other poems I've been working on in the new year

January Squall

Dust off the old ice spikes,
Slide them onto the worn leather,
Of my favorite lace up boots,
Pull on my dingy yellow winter jacket,
I need to clear my head,
And the weatherman is saying snow squall.

The starchy sound of snow crunching beneath my feet,
As distant cars splash through the slush on the pavement,
Ducking under bare branches I stomp into the ice,
The spikes breaking through to hold me firm in place.

All at once and without any warning at all,
The entire dormant winter forest comes alive,
The trees moan and shift against the wind,
And the clouds burst open.

The snow comes down so quickly it becomes a fog,
The trail ahead of me disappears into the blank whiteness,
A wall of snowfall closing me in,
Enveloping me in a freezing crystal quilt,
My nose a frozen wild strawberry.

It's just me and the forest blanketed in cold,
I giggle to myself like the little girl who caught flakes on her tongue,
Who made snow angels in her bulky pink snowsuit,
Snow leaving flash frozen kisses on her rosy freckled cheeks.

Here, alone thinking of my friends the trees,
Who wave to me as I sit at my sewing table, 
gazing out to the woods,
All of us experienced that moment together.

Out there, I’m a tree too,
Or a bird, or a squirrel, 
or a particularly vibrant patch of moss on a felled birch,
Out there, I could be anything.

Mushrooms

Fingers rolling together
Soft hot dog skin
Tongue fat and dry
Filled up to the teeth
Grinding and cussing
Kissing and fussing
The stars are popping
Like champagne bubbles
So raise your glassy eyes
To the skies

kitty

She stretched her legs out long like a cat,
Toes spread with wriggling claws,
Fingertips tracing the skin of her thigh,
Caressing and circling around her soft belly,
Licking her dry cracked lips rosy red,
Her doleful eyes and batting lashes,
beckoning.

Kissable thighs v2

I know you’re alone tonight,
Because here you are.
With your slick alley cat grin,
The photo next to your name,
A reminder that last time,
was supposed to be,
The last time.

You slither in all sticky saccharine,
Waxing poetic about the softness of my skin,
And my oh so kissable thighs,
And before I even realize,
I’m spreading myself like marmalade,
On moldy wonder bread.

Just a few little things in progress, wanted to share! New actual letter coming soon!

xoxo

Jes