On this sizzling day
 
my thoughts turn toward mountain snows
 
two time zones away.

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The first snow flurry,
 
butterfly on my lilac,
 
will come much too soon.

 
 
 

Midwinter scandal—
 
in the falling snow, my plum
 
begins to blossom!

 
 
 

My neighbor’s plum tree
 
snaps under the weight of snow—
 
four weeks until spring.

 
 
 

In a snowy ditch
 
a broken vodka bottle
 
glitters in the sun.

 
 
 

near a snowy field
 
somewhere in western Kansas
 
the cry of a hawk

 
 
 

Midwinter morning—
 
my coffee tastes of mountains
 
where snow never falls.