January in New England finds us reacquainting ourselves with winter’s forgotten pleasures. At the farm, a hopeful skater tests the ice with an upended hockey stick, then, satisfied, glides along the frozen pond. Above the dormant orchard, the season’s vibrant sunset pastels give way to an ebony sky spotlit by the rising wolf moon.

Ah, if only winter left us January 31st! Perhaps then, February would find us wistful for the dark and frigid month just passed rather than fully sated, impatient for light and heat.

Cold Moon

By Lynne Viti

Winter self

longs for summer.

High winds scuttle leaves

that weeks ago seemed

frozen to the ground.

A full cold moon lights up

the mess of a front yard,

grass shreds, earth flung there

by a wayward sidewalk plow.

Summer self

never longs for winter.

Instead fixes itself in the moments

of each long day, taking in

the soil’s heat underfoot

well after the sun

drops.

Lynne Viti is the author of three poetry collections: Baltimore Girls (2017), The Glamorganshire Bible (2018), and Dancing at Lake Montebello (2020). A lecturer emerita at Wellesley College, she teaches poetry and literature workshops in community settings, including the Westwood Public Library and the Dover Council on Aging. As an Old Frog Pond & Studio Plein Air poet, she has contributed poems to numerous Plein Air Poetry projects including Path Tracks Trails, Speaking of Sculpture, and Refuge.