Thin Ice

photo: linda aschbrenner

Thin Ice

by Linda Aschbrenner

The skating raccoon with the red scarf

hangs on our Christmas tree every year.

He glides on fumes of herring

when we’re all gathered.

I’ve watched him count us—

seeing who is new in the crowd,

who is gone. He spins and turns

when the cat bats at him,

pretending to be in the Olympics.

And in mid-January,

when I return him to a heap

of boxed ornaments,

he kicks me with a sharp blade

and asks what’s the guarantee

either of us will be back

next Christmas.

~ first published in Wisconsin Poets’ Calendar

Shadow Stash

photo: linda aschbrenner

Shadow Stash
by Linda Aschbrenner

Early every April we enter our woods
and gather pine shadows.
We peel them cold and wet
off the surface of the snow
and fold them into deep, clear bags.
The shadows feel like wet nylons.
We use twist ties to close each bag.
We carry the bags to the garage,
heap them in a corner.
Usually we get five bags.
Hot August afternoons we pull them out,
all the long, cool, blue shadows,
and prop them up around
our lawn chairs in the backyard.
We sip lemonade and shiver
in the delicious shade.

~ first published in Wisconsin Poets’ Calendar