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Unicorns and Plum Blossoms

by Neal Whitman & Amelia Fielden (USA / Australia)

fall is defunct

emails a Russian relative —

where I live

her crevice of dawn

portends short, dark days



long evenings

of comfort food and reading

in winter

we met, courted in spring

married in summer



what’s for dessert?

bread and butter pudding

by the fireside

my poodle and I

eyeball each other



same mornings

there’s a dankness of fog. . .

more often

her tiny paws patter

over silvery frost



this month’s Vogue

declares the new black to be

black and white ―

now in fashion, magpies

strutting down our driveway



cosy in bed

in my childhood home

I worried

and wondered where birds slept

when tree limbs iced over



when young I

welcomed snowploughs at night

School’s Cancelled ―

today I dig out the car

dreading a tough commute



four together

in a ski gondola

up the mountain. . .

all those years wondering

whether she’d have children



snowy owls

sighted in the canyon

how people flock

to see white animals

wolves, whales, and unicorns



plum blossoms

in the last month of winter

Tokyo-ites

gather to appreciate

these harbingers of spring

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