No place to sit
in this Siberian house
To write down a poem
lurking in my mind.

The living room is too
chilly and dark to defrost my hands;
the shady sunroom is
much too frigid, too.

Kitchen windows run from ceiling
To floor; sunlight streams in to warm
The bistro table.

I pull up a chair and lay
my hands on the table.
I begin to write the poem.



Watch these pages for more poems by Nancy.
In the meantime, click the links below for
poems and stories by our other authors.

The Odes Of March

The Wind


Night Fishing

Burnt Out Match

Seasons Change

Conversation Over Morning Coffee

Winter Friends




The Purple Dark Of Night

The Mad March Hare

Empty Basket

The Rocks of Crabtree Falls

Footsteps On The Roof

A new feature at Lara's Den is free E-cards. I make them and offer them to our visitors and authors.
Click the button to access the index.

And.......for many others, click the index image.

Graphics by Marilyn