Winter Poem

By Patrick Kindig / Issue 22

Ice is over
for all of us. No more
morning cold,
no snow, not even
in the mountains,
not even
in my husband’s
sleeping toes.
Christmas comes
in waves of gray,
warm rain stroking
the cheek, sateen.
How will we know
the year’s end
this year, what shape
will its ragged edge
take. Maybe
flakes, no two days
alike. Maybe
wind will blow
the year on
& on, carrying it
with clammy hands
until, one day,
it stops.

PATRICK KINDIG is the author of the forthcoming poetry collection fascinations (Finishing Line Press, 2025), the chapbook all the catholic gods (Seven Kitchens Press, 2019), and the micro-chapbook Dry Spell (Porkbelly Press, 2016) as well as the academic monograph Fascination: Trance, Enchantment, and American Modernity (Louisiana State University Press, 2022). His poems have appeared in the American Poetry Review, The Cincinnati Review, Colorado Review, Washington Square Review, Copper Nickel, and other journals. He currently lives and teaches in rural Texas.