Winter Island, Salem

It is February and every wild thing is hungry.
The earth is tipped in white snow
caught like a jellyfish in a net of shadow.
The bay is cold as Jupiter,
ducks drifting like orphans
in a galaxy of ice.
But, today a sun, golden
as a loaf of bread
rises from the fire of the hearth.
Gulls scoop hooked beaks
into the sea in search of fish.
Like them, I sink in my teeth.
I tilt my face toward heaven
and fill the empty basket
of my heart with light.


  1. Joan Leotta says:

    It’s a winner!!!!!! I loved it—may I use a line from it to start a poem? Crediting you, of course. Joan

    *Joan Leotta* Author, Story Performer *“Encouraging words through Pen and Performance”* *Most recent Short story published: The Confession in issue 88 Yellow Mama* * * *Books in Print* *Languid Lusciousness with Lemon, Finishing Line Press* *Morning by Morning and Dancing Under the Moon*, two free mini-chapbooks are at *Gifts of Nature, *free chapbook on *For her four out of print novels, collection of short stories and four children’s picture books, contact Joan at this email *

    On Tue, Feb 22, 2022 at 10:22 AM Kristin D’Agostino wrote:

    > dagostinokm posted: ” ” >


    1. dagostinokm says:

      Thank you, Joan. Yes, of course! 🙂 Please share it when you’re finished.


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