Sandra Kohler’s third collection of poems, Improbable Music (Word Press), was published in 2011. Earlier collections are The Country of Women (Calyx, 1995) and The Ceremonies of Longing (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2003). Her poems have appeared in numerous journals over the past 35 years. Born in New York City in 1940, Sandra attended public schools there, before matriculating at Mount Holyoke. She then went on to earn her masters and Ph.D. from Bryn Mawr College. Sandra’s taught literature and writing in venues ranging from elementary school to university. She lives in Massachusetts.
The first of March, snow falling like rain,
straight, heavy, insistent. My dreams were
densely plotted, thick with incident I can’t
remember. My life is thick with something
other than incident: a stew of memory, fear,
longing, unfinished business, unrealized
intention. Will it snow all morning? My head’s
awhirl with the five women I met yesterday,
their husbands, daughters, sons, people we
each carry with us, willing or not: a world of
connections we’re born into, choose, birth.
Here, in mine, someone stirs: who’s up and
why? March snow is still falling. Should I
shovel before it stops, will a broom shift it,
should I serve asparagus before stew, is there
enough stew? I’m who made the stew I’m in.