December 2023 Poetry

Life Pods

Nestled cozily within the ground debris,
pinecones safeguarding their seeds
until the time is right
for sprouting new life.

Pinecones, like loving parents,
do their job with wise intents.
Hard on the outside
but soft and warm on the inside.

Pinecones keeping hope alive,
for saplings to spread out wide
and carpet the forest floor
with vibrant green evermore.

Teresa Dower, Peyton
Mountain View Electric member


Winter Wondering

I careered into Science — it suited me quite well,
Worked in industry, research, teaching, did it all.
Then sudden came a hard ill which none
could foretell
But, thanks to Science and precious prayers,
I still stand here tall.

Yes, Science, it “knows some”; a bunch of “hows”
I would say:
Like “How snowflakes form …” or “How light moves
through space,”
Yet, still, daunting questions remain at end of day,
And, so often I ponder the fate of our race …

I just flip on the news for updates on “bad,”
But a glance out my window, I see our fragile,
friend, snow,
Whose twinkling rainbow-winks make my
heart warm and glad,
And so I pray, please, waft softly, stir in us
more love to show.

Yes, I wonder, frigid flakes, fluttering down from
heaven high:
Though Science may answer some “hows” … can it
possibly answer “Why?”

William Penfield, Berthoud
Poudre Valley REA member


Breakfast Time in the Pine Forest

Chilly morning bundled in my sweats
wearing gloves against the cold, watching
a small, gray furry object
huddled on a dead branch stub,
Taking in, like me, the warmth of the morning sun.
Then, suddenly, in quick squirrelly movements,
Making its way upward to another dry branch.
Now, nibbling at the loose bark, chewing for a while.

Steadily upward to another tasty perch
and a crisp sliver of sweet, sappy bark.
A swift move, even higher, almost obscured
by needled branches.
The progressive breakfast journey through
the sunlit, cobwebbed arms of the evergreen.
Occasional, discarded, nibbled-chunks falling
to earth.

Losing sight, then again spying the flick of a tail
higher up than before.
Joined by winged friends near to the top,
debris drifting downward to mark its progress.
Excited chirping from a nearby tree.
A conversation.

Rapid downward movement,
a quick glance at me,
Then, to the ground
Into the tall grass
And away.

Beverly Thompson, Grand Junction
Grand Valley Power member