I want everything to melt soon, this “forever white”

snow, a new embankment formed from the mountainside

so that no flood waters flow. Pages of white-

lined paper are my only amusement these days

after the sudden avalanche. The winter’s white

light looks bright as summer’s, but it’s bristly cold.

Caught between two hard places, this white

track is too dangerous to go unaccompanied by foot.

Stuck here until it melts, I dream of white

flowers, their intoxicating sweet scents

taking me out of bed, until I see the still white

paths glistening in the sun. Not yet–not yet.

Published in “Looking in, looking out: an international anthology of poetry and short stories” (Willowdown Books: November 2023)

Mind’s swirling 

with New Year’s resolutions,

the Earth is now

closest to the Sun.

Will everyone

benefit from this 

fortune today,

even those who are scraping by?

Why all this suffering & struggle,

pretending to live fat,

out of our means?

Let’s bow towards the Sun,

breathe fully, eat better, exercise,

save $, pay down debts,

make better decisions.

Little by little, 

our circumstances might improve

even in a chaotic world like this,

it turns & glides around the Sun

like it was born to do.

We are all born into pain,

we carry traumas within our skin,

organs & bones; Joy is also possible.

Joy is an elixir—warming us

in a cold January day

like sunshine.