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Wait For Me
by ellen

     After reading Winter Morning Walks
     written during recovery from cancer
     which included avoiding sun
     by walking before sunup.

          This hungry little piece of darkness
               —Ted Kooser

His book of poems lies closed
But leaves me broken open
Bitten by the hard teeth of winter

Ted Kooser exposes himself
To bone-rattling wintry weather
Fierce wind that does not daunt him

It isn’t simple to see
With great appreciation
A life that may freeze

I stumble to grasp
How bluster and blizzard
Are not metaphors

Ice on willows
Snow-broken branches
Strewn on paths

Cold blue clings
like death’s breath
The new moon’s no help

I fall behind and slip
In the missing moonlight
Hey Ted, wait up


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