Winter letter, unfinished by Susan Wismer

Poem title: Winter letter, unfinished Poet name: Susan Wismer Poem: Under a veil of slumbering trees, winter’s day cracks from beneath the sweet shell of darkness hardly noticed, my head bent by the fire over paper and pen, I am writing to you while most of this house still sleeps and our good neighbours wake in a home no longer theirs; think about what to take, what to leave, wonder where they will live next month in this town where renters have nowhere to go. Set letter aside, pull on warm clothes, call the dog. Slide boots over socks, find dry mitts. Wind sculpture drift— rise of a hip, deep folds of a belly, one long white leg graceful lines, a goddess asleep in my driveway. My shovel hits snow, we must dig out. End of poem. Credits and bio: Copyright © Susan Wismer Previously published in Pinhole Poetry (2.1 Spring 2023). Susan Wismer (she/they) is a queer poet who is grateful to live on Treaty 18 territory at the southern shore of Manidoo-zaaga i’gan (Georgian Bay) in Ontario, Canada with two human partners and a very large dog. Her book Hag Dances is coming out with At Bay Press in Spring 2025.