Mary Spalding

Cold Front Coming
February 20, 2020 Spalding Mary

Cold Front Coming 


A crescent moon
reached slim arms into the house.

My brother rested.

Bittersweet’s burnt orange
and thorns tapped the glass.

Musty scent of wet leaves,
clouds like smoke signals.

He said hunting all day
was too strenuous.  Did he know?

It was the end of Indian summer,
I locked the house.

Mary Spalding is a Virginian transplanted to the Hudson River Valley, where I practice psychotherapy.  Some of my poems are published or forthcoming in Potomac Review, New Orleans Review, Cumberland Review, Podium, Greensboro Review; and I received the 2015 Rachel Wetzsteon Poetry Award from the Unterberg Poetry Center.