Category: Winter

for a time

reading poetry
from books and journals
recently in the mail
and also on my shelves
for a time

and for a different
sense of time

the new sun
on the birch trees
in the back yard

January 2015

Ellen Grace Olinger

poems seen

poems seen
that did not
get written
frost painting
on the side door

from my archives
Ellen Grace Olinger

Rest and Renewal

snow rests
on birch tree branches
that will grow new leaves

and also
on evergreen branches

the yard asks little now

some light seems to rest
with the clouds

I listen to music without
words and then practice
new poems

last year I read many books

mystery of rest and renewal

I am working with some of the ideas I shared in the view has changed.

Today I am listening to music by Helen Jane Long.

And I remember a haiku:

January thaw . . .
letting go
of old heartaches

“January thaw” was published in A Splash of Water: Haiku Society of America 2015 Members’ Anthology, edited by Catherine J.S. Lee.

Ellen Grace Olinger

Wisconsin Winters

asked here and there
if we go South
for a time

we stay

seasons
snowdrops

A poem last January, and we are settled for another winter. And I also know there could be a time to change. The winters can be very hard. I so love our four seasons, and watching carefully. Each month is different. The small strong snowdrops are the first perennials to bloom in our yard. One year, they were covered with new snow, and then there they still were, with their tiny flowers.

Years ago, I wrote this short poem. I remember how significant it was that I could write a poem.

First real snow
last night
My heart lifts
January light.

“First real snow” was published in SMILE (WINTER 2000-01); and reprinted in SMILE (FALL/WINTER 2009-10). With a lot of winter ahead, the light is already different. A unique beauty.

THE SNOWDROP.
Reusable Art

With best wishes for the New Year.
AntiqueClipart.com

Ellen Grace Olinger

these wood walls

these wood walls
shelter and add
so much beauty
to this cold day

and all days

others have lived
here too these
past decades

today I wonder
about the other
stories . . .

when the
trees were young

and grew tall
long before
I was born

and then became
this house and

they still seem
alive to me

from January 2015

Ellen Grace Olinger