Stepmother’s-breath
hissing through barren boughs
dispensing discontent,
cold as a witch’s kiss.
Scandalmonger of the fields,
grips ragweed by the forelock
to lay across the line
and beat away the dirt.
Hickory switch, finger wagging
at a giggle of snowflakes
leapfrogging through ochre fields
and playing knock-knock—
upon her parlor door.
by Debbie Ouellet
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