Shoveling snow away from my door before dawn

I awaken two moose without noticing

Twirling around to look up at bright stars

I see the smaller one slowly stumble up to its feet

While the larger one keeps watch on me

They graze a bit in the space I cleared

Pulling with their lips at the needles of a pine tree

Taking their time, they stroll down the driveway

That’s the same spot where the fox crosses my property

On other mornings

Glancing quickly across at me

The other night at twilight I walked down the driveway

In a fresh foot of powder, and the full moon greeted me ­at the road

Shining down and lighting up the snow

Children ripping wrapping paper to see what is inside

Discovering each present then settling in

One drawing while she lies on the floor, feet kicking ­back and forth

The other playing a video game on his phone

Winter in the mountains is dark

But you can still see

Simple, natural ways of being

And notice how we are all

That delightful

By Barbara Gormley

What binds dreamer to dream?,

Did a girl collect the moon’s

Reflections from Nebraskan

Streams to expand an inner

Pearl around which narratives

Would orbit.

Cedar falls, Elmswood twinned

Like two dreaming winds that

Intersect to blow fruit from

Branches of time for a writer

To find in moonlit orchards

Of her imagination.

Readers tears fall onto

Pages of first publication,

Characters drowned in

The tears of time. Do winds

Age, books in a library about

Heartland/Plains, to gage

Time and space, preserving

Themes like sleeper locked

Into a dream consumed

By sound of Nebraskan

Rivers, are eyes reflected

On water caught in those

Of migrating birds. Clouds

Are like eyes moving across

Words. Fingertips are

Imperceptible on book

Spines, binding love of

Generations.

By Barry Carter