Wednesday, 21 February 2018 11:37

February 2018 Poems

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It comes in the windows and even through

The walls the second the furnace takes a

Break from heating the home as we have drawn

The curtains and locked the doors but there is


No mitigation of the weight of the

Cold on a winter night in December

In Minnesota even though we passed

The solstice and daylight will get longer


Gradually we face the coldest days

Of the year so it not just tonight that

Is bearing down it’s the burden of our

Knowledge of the months coming and there is


No use in grumbling so I put on my

Thick socks and pile up the heavy blankets.


While walking around

during the daylight only

a little oval

including my mouth eyes and

nose is exposed to the cold.



When I think about the people who were

Airbrushed from the photographs of Joseph

Stalin because they fell in disfavor

With the Soviet Union I wonder


Whether the brush dispersed a very fine

Spray of paint or whether in fact color

Was brushed over the person erasing

His personage and I am sure that the


Work was meticulous and demanded

Dexterity — and then I think about

The millions of people who disappeared

Who were airbrushed from the earth in brutal


Fashion erasing their existence in

The service of an ideology.


The reality

is people are capable

of such monstrous

evil while professing the

utmost benevolence.



I was driving through Stillwater doing

A chore turning on familiar streets and

I noticed the sun appearing with a

Right turn and with a left turn there was


The early morning moon — and I was in my

Working mind following the streets and the

Turns of the city but the sun and moon

Kept popping up around a corner and


Seemed to follow me — the moon was looming

White but yesterday it was yellow in

The dark — and there in a window was the

Lively reflection of the sun shining


Gold and my eyes didn’t hurt in lingering

Over the sight — and then I was driving.


The sun and moon are

unearthly beauty

everyone can see —

they enliven the

sky everyday.



The Accident


As winter is dragging on and darkness

Is dominating morning and evening

I became frustrated being stuck in

The little rooms within my little house


So I was blasé this morning in the

Bathroom when I opened the cabinet

And the trimmer fell out into the sink

And I didn’t care and I didn’t think


Until I trimmed off half my beard and I

Realized the fall had changed the settings

And then what could I do but shave the rest

Even though I was watching the daily


Progression of my winter beard and now

I have to begin all over again.


Or maybe not but

I will certainly

go to a barber

to get a haircut

and restore balance.



I gaze at the perpetrator in the

Mirror every morning and start with the

Left side of my chin with downward strokes and

Then I go under my nose and it does


Become apparent when it’s time to change

The razor because a dull blade will drag

Above my lip were I am sensitive —

I could be thinking about politics


Or the Academy Awards — while on

My right side next to my ear I begin

Stroking down against the grain to my neck

Until I reach my chin and when finished


I like to put the razor down and with

My fingers I like to feel smoothiness.


I’ve just discovered

an oddity that’s

taken forever

to notice — my right

side is hairier.

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Barry MacDonald

Editor & Publisher of the St. Croix Review.
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