They come back
By Cheryl Block

 

They come back, the chubby cheeked squirrel
the tiny sparrow, the agile woodpecker
6 degrees and their silhouettes
shadowed the feeder, taking flight or scurrying
within seconds . . .
but now they are back, the gray titmouse
and the colorful robin as the temperatures warm
they are back, the birdsong blanketing
the ivy and azalea, a symphony relished.
They are back, the squirrel happily teases another,
jaws working the bread that he has taken for his own.
They are back, a pastel of color, lifting one’s heart.
. . . They are back.

 

Snow Globe

 

flakes gently brush the old barn
I watch
hoping, dreaming for snow
the sun’s rays oscillate
on my morning drive
warmth disappointing
my winter wonderland fantasy
so I admire as a child would
the flakes of the globe
caressing the old barn.

 

Cheryl Block from U.S., is an associate teaching professor of Spanish at North Carolina State University and enjoys creative writing. Some of her work is published in Blue Lake Review, Calliope, Dumas de Demain, Evening Post Review, Hinchas de Poesia, and Westward Quarterly.