Category: Poems

My favorite cheese is Swiss
But I’d be so remiss

Not to mention bleu
No American will do

I find pepper jack
Too zesty, sort of wack

Give me endless Gouda
and I’m content as the Buddha

Long shadows cut sharp into the snow
Black against white

Sun withholds warmth but gives her light
Frosted panes, refracting

In a moment even light will be gone
We must mind our fires

The smell of galoshes
resting in melting puddles
waiting for their student’s return
This was grade school
in winter
in Ohio
when I was young