I have fallen in love
with poetry I make
like you shake
a snow globe
blobs of
cold weather
words forming
fronts and backs
and inside outs.

Raining down
on my stiff neck
and thawing out
my spinal column
in its weird love
of arranging
everything
in rows like
marching
soldiers.

At ease, words.
The war between
body and soul
has ended.
Truth to tell,
I saw white doves
flying in a
perfect circle
inside my head.

Vicki Woodyard