Bev Tappan

Month: February 1990

  • ONE MORNING AFTER A SLEET STORM

    The moon was a whitegold earring
    Worn by a frosted fir
    While ice chimes clinked and jingled
    His thoughts were all of her.

    Sunrise pale and leaden
    Embraced the silver rim
    Of the rime-encrusted woodland.
    Her thoughts were all of him.