Night Terrors

Summer at the cabin and no AC. The only way to sleep at night is with an open window which worries me being a woman hearing all kinds of ghastly news stories.

Night Terrors

Silence reigns beyond

the inkiness of cabin screens.

No thrum of crickets. No hoot

of an owl. No moon to brighten

the shadows.

No vehicle noise on the country

road. Blood pounds in my ear.

My bedroom window ajar.

Sheets kicked to the end of the bed.

A loser with a gun and a grudge

slips between my half-dreaming

neurons.

Ads selling security with cameras

and motion detectors entice me,

and I bite.

But my heart lurches with every

attention-seeking flash tripped

by critters or absentminded leaves.

Snags the sleep just out of my reach,

still.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor 

Will Ice Fishing No Longer Be a Sport?

Bear with me. There is a connection between ice fishing and the heat we're experiencing. I blame it on the insidious warming of this world.

Will Ice Fishing No Longer Be a Sport?

The vernal equinox up north:

more mud than buds, branches

still bare. Spools of sunshine

soften crusted snow, turning it

sloppy as ice cream left out too long.

Other days clouds commandeer the sky

and unleash a numbing embrace

of winter. Both conditions standard

springtime fare: three steps forward

then two steps back. But every year

whispers earlier, each season a touch

reaches deeper.

And I worry about the ice fisherman next door.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor