first snowbird

The air grew brisk and flecks of snow and hail
dropped down on us, the gold receded 

from the harvested wheat as well
as the horizon, trees swooned to cover

their sudden nakedness, clouds tumbled
over themselves in haste -- the skies streamed out 

to the color of a night that wouldn’t end
‘til spring, and then rains began as if our 

own tears were shed, our own salt sacrificed
for another. In the neighboring county, 

someone said he saw you by the river’s wide
edge, willing it to shrink, killing fish 

with your heavy-lidded eyes, raging,
your back turned to us, waiting for her return.

you can probably guess that it's cold outside, that winter has reached Georgia -

and who better to ring that in than a little re-telling of demeter and her

daughter persephone.....