Three Poems by Susan Dale

WINTER LAKE

 

Reincarnated from Macbeth’s witches

Three seagulls with hooked beaks

Beady eyes and clone feet

Hover together for warmth

On the frozen lake.

 

With gray wings of triumph,

Another seagull, aloft and soaring

Catches a chattering wind

To hang suspended
In skies of aqua dreams

Where stretch the clouds

Of ghost feathers

And the strains of a pale, winter sun.

 

Violent waves frozen

as they crest and crash

into foamy moors that heave and fall

And stretch towards far-off horizons.

 

 

January 2

 

I heard a phantom wind

whistling in treetops

lost in the milky mists

of a twilight that floats

through parchment skies

hanging heavy

with tissue-paper clouds

drop raindrops

of gossamer glass

on the moon that nods in passing

to a pale sun

sinking in silver skies

To meet silver waters below

 

 

February 5, ‘07

 

Steps of twilight

Down to the cellar of night

Silent, dark, starless

With weightless dreams

Spinning inside of me

In webs of silk

To fill dawn with taboos

And vapors of fears

 

Daybreak painting over morning

With colors of long snow

And solace with warm arms

A vaulted ceiling - afternoon

soaring above the walls

of white-plaster snow

 

 

Susan’s poems and fiction are on Eastown Fiction, Tryst 3, Word Salad, Pens On Fire, Ken *Again, Hackwriters, Feathered Flounder, and Penwood Review. In 2007, she won the grand prize for poetry from Oneswan.