Deadfall

It is still winter up at the cabin. At least two feet of snow continues to cover the ground in the forest, and a smattering of the white stuff persists on the lake. However, a sun inching higher in the sky, and temps in the upper 20s made for great snow-shoeing both on the lake and in the woods.



Deadfall


An ancient pine slumps
against a neighbor
caught
as he fell in the wind and snow.

His outer bark
undone and curled back
like a long-coat shrugged off
in the final delirium of hypothermia.

Shoulder-to-shoulder
the companion
now improbably set
in a death tableau meant for one.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Vernal Equinox

Tuesday will mark the spring equinox, and the world is thawing. Banks of snow, some covered in road grime, others still pristine, slowly slip away. The lakes hold fast to their ice, but only a fool would venture onto them. It is the birds, more than anything, that confirm the coming of springtime.



Vernal Equinox


I crack a late winter window
        to hear the change of seasons
                    singing through the pines

Traveling troupes
                of warblers chasing
                                          longer days

Exuberant enough to nudge
                 even a curmudgeon's  
                           off-duty dancing feet.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Tools of the Trade

Yes, I am a day early with my blog, but I am leaving, shortly, for a Pediatric Conference in Arizona. Even though I am retired, I like to keep current with the latest medical information.

It helps that the meeting is held where flowers are in bloom, and, oh-by-the-way, where a sister of mine lives.



Tools of the Trade


Mickey Mouse waves
with each sweep of my watch.

A timepiece
that makes friends with toddlers,
acts as a monitor for hearts,
tests recall in head injuries,
tracks endless-seeming seizures,
counts the breaths of babies.

I find my double-bell stethoscope
almost as useful.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Cosmic Comedy

This past week saw record February snowfall here in the Twin Cities followed by a string of days in the mid-forty degree range. Tomorrow's forecast predicts another six inches of the white stuff just when you think Borealis has lost his grip.

Condo living removes some of winter's frustrations, but I clearly remember the angst of unexpected spring snowstorms even in the month of April.



Cosmic Comedy


I know I complained about the sullied bedrolls of snowbanks. And, yes, I whined about the archeological finds of cigarette butts and discarded styrofoam, emerging through winter's shrinking drifts. But why did you decide to listen to me this time, and try to make things nice? Sure, last night's whiteout hides the grime, and the heap of fresh snow balanced delicately on stilled branches is worthy of its front page photo. But after the last blizzard my right boot now leaks, my snake-bit car balks at the end of the drive, and six inches of cement-like moisture awaits my dented shovel, already claiming workman's comp. We are not amused.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor