Patricia Caspers


it’s never too cold to snow

once a snowflake
dissolves to rain, it won’t
become neve again
in its lifetime

birch mushrooms
shelf more than their share
of schnee against
a moon-silver evening

yuki no hana falls
from a slightly
sun-struck sky,
and the tiniest flakes
create themselves
without the froth
of cloud cover

the geometry
of traffic lines
is obscured by apun:
drive where you like

the sharpest air
holds little water;
expect few crystals,
faux neige

unutsi is art
that never points
in fewer than six directions

imagine earth a single crust
blackberry pie,
your helping heavy
with whipped cream,
and nature a grandmother

mangia, mangia, she scolds
we must fatten you up

Patricia Caspers’ manuscript Life with Fever, has been finalist for several poetry prizes, including Many Mountains Moving and Tom and Stan Wick. edits poetry for Prick of the Spindle. Her work was published most recently in Ploughshares and Storyscape. She has work forthcoming from Quiddity, Generations, Valparaiso, and Main Street Rag. Her letterpressed chapbook Dead Letters is hot off the Meridian Press.