SOUTH OF WINTER

The wind whispers

Time to go time to go

In V-formation

I find my place

Under my wings

an updraft

Lifts me higher

and higher

To leave behind snow

I fly

South of winter.

SALT LICK

White crystal

calls to you

From deep in the green

You appear massive rack

Bends to protrude leather tongue

Scraping minute particles

Ingested satiated Ballet

Steps take you

Away.

ICICLES

Frosty blue twinkling

In the first sun

After I had

Burned the midnight

Oil.

LAST LEAF

Last leaf

Hangs tenaciously

Like a

Bungee jumper

To suddenly

Freefall

To tell us

That the

Dark season

Is now

On its way.

Sandra Merz is a freelance writer who lives in Port Coquitlam, British Columbia, Canada. She has written and published poems, short stories, book reviews and interviews. She is currently writing her first novel. Sandra is an associate editor of The Rose & Thorn Literary E-zine.

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