"blue mirror deer" by Susan Solomon
To My Mother
When you call tonight, when it’s ten below,
and grouse gather around your house
for seeds in the snow,
what can I know except what you tell me:
the neighbor plowed today,
your boots are worn.
You say a deer steps into the yard, stands
illumined as we speak, and then
there is another, and they go.
When you call tonight, when it’s ten below,
and grouse gather around your house
for seeds in the snow,
what can I know except what you tell me:
the neighbor plowed today,
your boots are worn.
You say a deer steps into the yard, stands
illumined as we speak, and then
there is another, and they go.
Tami Haaland is the author of two books of poetry: When We Wake in the Night, and Breath in Every Room, winner of the Nicholas Roerich Prize. Her poems have appeared in many journals, more than a dozen anthologies, and on The Writer's Almanac, Verse Daily, and American Life in Poetry. She teaches at Montana State University Billings and is Montana's Poet Laureate until August 2015.
Susan Solomon is a freelance painter living in St. Paul, Minnesota. She also edits and cartoons Sleet Magazine, an online literary journal. Susan was recently laid off from her medical office job after 11 years and is now happily painting full time. She is a graduate of the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, the same school that claims David Lynch as an alumni. To view more paintings, please visit www.susansolomonpainter.com
