Winter Oak

~ Watching Winter Oak Leaves ~

Because that oak leaf landed gently on my hand last fall

which a friend kindly memorialized in a sweet painting

and I preserved, pressed in my hard cover copy of

The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson

the few remaining leaves still dangling from their branch

outside my window, seem to dance and wave at me

each time I look up from my writing chair.  In just

the right breeze they skitter and prance - like

frisky kittens reaching for each other then

pulling back teasing to be caught

and when the wind is strong

I marvel at their tenacious grip

*********

I’ve read of prisoners in isolation making friends

and playing with the spiders on their cell wall

I fear I’ve thus befriended old oak leaves

still  dancing at my window  as March 

winds unfurl. Somehow they make

me think of John - now gone

no longer hanging on 

JoMae

2//27/21