John Walser
John Walser, an associate professor of English at Marian University in Wisconsin, holds a doctorate in English and Creative Writing from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in numerous journals, including Barrow Street, Nimrod, Spillway, The Pinch, december magazine, Naugatuck River Review, Fourth River, the Hiram Poetry Review, Gingko Tree Review, and Bird’s Thumb. He was a featured poet in September 2014 at Connotation Press: An Online Artifact. A Pushcart nominee as well as a semi-finalist for the 2013 Pablo Neruda Prize for Poetry, John is currently submitting three manuscripts of poetry for publication.
IN FEBRUARY, THE UPPER MIDWEST
Despite the cigarette burn sky
the covenant of ice
despite the frayed crocheted shadows,
the exposed lip of the sliced burlap sack
stiffened around top of the root ball
despite the draughts in the walls
the hypnosis clock that clicks
in the other room
despite this morning’s thin arbor vitae
willow-bowed at its waist
despite the cherry pit buds
that we know were fooled by
the weakest grey warm spell
we embrace the lying sun:
the afternoon thaw
of heavy snow melt limp
cedar bough collapsing.
Our shortening shadows
believe the run-off, the slush.
Thirty-six degrees
is unzipped jacket jubilation.
Thirty-six degrees
is a crocus bulb shoot
breaking the top soil
of our hibernation.