This December
during wide nights
hemmed by blackness,
I remember roses.
Pink yellow red violet
those satin blooms of June.
We must wait six months
before seeing blossoms,
touch their brightness
crush their scent
with fingertips.
Now there are only
ebony pools of winter’s
heavy ink of darkness.
Dipping into memory of
my lips touching petals
tantalizing sweet buds.
My body longs for softness.
I glimpse brilliant faces of
flowers right before me as I
burrow beneath frosty blankets.
Bracing against that long, cold
nocturnal of wind and shadow.
About the Author
Joan McNerney has been the recipient of three scholarships. She has recited
her work at the National Arts Club, New York City, State University of New York,
Oneonta, McNay Art Institute, San Antonio and the University of Houston,
Texas, Published worldwide in over thirty five countries, her work has appeared
in literary publications too numerous to mention. Four Best of the Net
nominations have been awarded to her. The Muse in Miniature, Love Poems for
Michael and At Work are available on Amazon.com A new release entitled Light
& Shadow explores the recent historic COVID pandemic.
