from Winter Poems

by Charlie Rossiter

3.
Out for a solstice stroll,
my breath hangs in the air,
our country lane
glows silver,
no traffic to speak of,
a hazy half moon.

8.
Each winter
when the Mississippi
starts to freeze,
I come here to watch
the bald eagles
soar and dive for fish
in open water below the dam.
I’ll never understand people
who prefer Florida to this.

32.
On cold, clear nights like this
a thick band of stars
splits the sky,
and I understand
why the Milky Way
is called the sash of heaven.