Long Spacenight Poems

Covered With Fur

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so many frigid clouds
so many dangling drooping dippers
on this icy, icy night of paper, powder and pearl…
she gushes out from the night blanket,
cats and tigers in flight, trees mashing ivory
feathers with silver stones.
her lukewarm eyes sink with velvet birds
sketching her photographs tissue crepe,
ocean crème and maiden white,
nesting on hemisphere’s balding coves
the sky-lamps trip on her thermal feet
naked… i mean, like breasts of newborn doves
on the nest’s chilled waiting room...

and just past midnight
at the basement of stillness, nothingness, 
her translucent air swerves in transit
between visions of secluded saints and sinners
weeping then laughing at the bite of polar time.
this moon lady of frost
embraces  lantern clouds waning,
heralding her sacred infant-like incantation
seemingly detached from earth mother’s limbs
on this icy, icy night of paper, powder and pearl…

she is cold changing to warm,
breathless along an arctic season longing
for her new moonchild to bear the fruits 

of plump colors soon to be.

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(( here's to: Chris D. Aechtner's " Free Verse for Winter"))