Excerpts from


'Twas the night before Christmas

and Santa fell flat on his face. 

My neighbor's inflated Santa lost—

I don't know…his bowl full of jelly.


Staked like a downed tent,

he ripples in the wind,

gestures with one red glove.


Punctured, we flap on,

skeptical but not unkind.

© Lynna Howard, 2007, all rights reserved

Excerpts from

December Song

Walk by the gray river

listening to the doomed affair

of Violetta and Alfredo

on the radio.


A brass section of ducks

takes the air,

marking the current—

a great claw of torn water


Taloned hawks, late for a trip

to winter in Argentina,

carve a sharp C in air.

Desultory hunters,

bibbed in black, formal,

silent—but a chord is struck

below the threshold of hearing

by the shape of their drop

from limb to shore.


© Lynna Howard, 2000, all rights reserved

Photo courtesy of Leland Howard

See www.wildernessbooks.com

All photos and text ©Lynna Howard. Appearance online as work samples is not to be construed as publication. All rights reserved. Do not copy nor distribute without the poet's permission. Thank you. Contact lynna.howard@mac.com