★ ★ ★ ★
By the Baptiste River, Alberta
Nature was very free with her bounty of beauty today.
Snow and rain were in and out of the forecast but
it felt like spring in the woods, old moose tracks
in the snow, a few snowdrops by a fallen log.
A flurry of chickadees scattered through an opening
as I cut my wood—they found some lingonberries
that were encased in ice all winter at full ripeness,
and I also picked a few for the walk back to the house.
Four days of fog has left a fair bit of hoar frost on things
and with the sun fully out this morning, the effect is
splendid, all glittering and sparkly, white on white.
As I got to the house, I went round to adjust the tarps
covering the wood in the back, and it began to snow
this time hard, and soon I was back in the silence and
surrounded by a great curtain that hid spring for now.
Karen Petersen has traveled the world extensively, publishing both nationally and internationally in a variety of publications. Most recently, she was published in The Malpais Review in the USA, Antiphon in the UK and A New Ulster in Northern Ireland. In 2015, she read “In Memory of W.B. Yeats” at the Yeats Festival in Santa Fe, New Mexico and the KGB Bar in NYC. Her poems have been translated into Persian and Spanish. She holds a B.A. in Philosophy and Classics from Vassar College and an M.S. from Columbia University’s Graduate School of Journalism.
At The Wild Word we are proud to present some of the best online writing around, as well as being a platform for new and emerging writers and artists.
As a non-profit, the entire site is a labour of love.
If you have read the work in The Wild Word and like what we do, please put something in our tip jar to keep this amazing platform alive.
THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT!