Cold

Fresh snow
with the same fox trail
ahead of us
each morning…

The cold at times
becomes unmovable,
but we must
meet her at her throat;

we must reach down
inside ourselves
for strength,
or we will be swallowed up

like the coyote
that morning
who stood his ground,
unmovable,

his yellow eyes
shadowing our eyes.

 

 

About the Poet: Ethel Mortenson Davis was born in Wisconsin where her parents were dairy farmers. Her years on the farm instilled a deep sense of the earth. After high school she studied fine art at the University of Wisconsin—Madison with Milton Resnick, one of the great abstract artists of the 20th century.  Influenced by the imagist poets, she has had four books of poetry published. Her poems have appeared in magazines, international and regional anthologies, and small literary journals. She lives in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin with her husband and two dogs where her daughters and grandchildren come to visit on a regular basis. Her son died of cancer a number of years ago.

 

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