Late Snow on an Easter Morning
I am learning the solitude of black tea citrus rinds and licorice roots,
rosy finch, nuthatch and house wren quibbling at the copper feeder I hung just a day ago
before the late frost air drifted through.
I am learning the solitude of black tea citrus rinds and licorice roots,
so I dry dishes at the sink, forget the days’ count since the last pink moon.
The wood stove burns and unquiet sparrows gather in the gathering snow.
I am learning the solitude of black tea citrus rinds and licorice roots,
rosy finch, nuthatch, and house wren quibbling at the copper feeder I hung just a day ago.
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Published by Kathryn Winograd
Kathryn Winograd is a Colorado poet, essayist, and photographer. Her work includes Air Into Breath, a Colorado Book Award winner and alternate for the Yale Series, Flying Beneath the Dog Star: Poems from the Pandemic, a semi-finalist for the Finishing Line Press 2020 Open Chapbook Contest, and Slow Arrow: Unearthing the Frail Children, a Bronze Medalist in Essay for the 2020 Independent Publisher Book Awards. Her essays have been published in numerous journals including River Teeth and Terrain.org and her poetry in places as diverse as The New Yorker and Cricket Magazine for Children. https://kathrynwinograd.com/
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Kathryn Winograd 
It looks like you’ve accepted the challenge of writing 30 poems in 30 days. This Triolet is lovely.
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I have, Neva. Whole new project now. Very good to have when it’s 14 degrees out on Easter!!
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Awesome poem–I love hearing the birds in full throat!
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Thank you! I never tried a triolet before. It was interesting: I can see how I could go back to the form and really try the nuances of it.
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A triolet is new to me. Project!!
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Okay, anonymous! who is this!!
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Stunning!
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Thank you!!
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