Snow Raining on Glass poems by Lois Mathieu

picture of Lois Mathieu

By turns joyful, melancholy, angry, and hopeful, Lois Mathieu’s Snow Raining on Glass presents honest, vivid, sensual poems that are revelatory and replete with startling images. They reward multiple readings but are eminently accessible, avoiding needless obscurity. Carol B. Shmurak writes, "Ranging from the whimsical to the elegiac, Lois Mathieu’s poems are accessible even for those who do not ordinarily read poetry. There is deep feeling beneath the surface of some of her poems and a gentle wit smiling through others. Her play with rhyme and form add to the pleasure of reading Snow Raining on Glass."
  Snow Raining on Glass cover image
  Photograph by Rob McQuilkin.

Lois Mathieu, a Connecticut native, writes poetry and fiction. She earned a B.A. in Liberal Studies from Syracuse University and an M.A. in English from Trinity College.  Thereafter, she worked in the corporate world as a manager of customer documentation and made friends across the globe during many working trips to Japan. Her poems have been issued by journals such as Calyx, Connecticut River Review, Connecticut Poets at Work, Embers, and Portland Review. They have also appeared in anthologies: the Texas Tech University Press anthology, Blood to Remember, American Poets on the Holocaust; and the Northwoods Press anthology, Sweet as Hautboys, Green as Prairies. Her poem “Counting Sheep by Night” won the Joseph E. Brodine Award presented by The Connecticut Poetry Society. Lois has written poetry reviews for the journal Gargoyle; and she is the author of three novels: Debut, Song for My Birth Mother; The Next to Last Drink (named to Kirkus Review’s Best of  2012 list); and Women Under Siege. Lois Mathieu is married to writer William L. Newell, Professor Emeritus at Eastern Connecticut State University. They live in Bloomfield, CT, and have two children as well as four grandchildren.

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ISBN 978-1-943826-44-5

First Edition 2018

6" x 9" paperback, 46 pages
$14.00 per book plus 6.35% sales tax (CT only)
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Copyright © 2018 by Lois Mathieu


Picasso’s “Demoiselles”

Reckless invention
Time appears without reference
Space without familiarity
Admirers scorn
The demolition of certainty
The pretty view from a particular window

Strobes of female statues move
In dangerous prisms shaped
By shattered safe perspectives
They stare us down
These women of revelation
Unabashed at outrage

Iberian faces gaze
From an icy brothel cave
Their painted fingernails reveal
The goings-on behind a curtain
Time moves in revolutionary planes
To a tribal mask of the East African

Progressive time recedes across the room
A rosy queen undrapes herself and dons
The prima donna mask of the East African
She sits in primitive transformation
Legs open ready to reveal
All that is necessary for a hundred years

Queen of Rivers


They say her name is Danu
The Indo-European lady
Who waltzed with Strauss
From Black Forest to Black Sea

Her crystal necklace glittering
From gifts of countless lovers
Mistress to Augustus and Napoleon
Lover to Charlemagne

Secrets of their battlegrounds
Commingle with the stench of genocide
Petrochemicals of Bratislava
Where fish tastes strangely acrid
The servant queen is aging now
From multitudes vying for her ports
Bearing weight of Hungarian corpses
More than four-hundred years old

Still shepherds tend her lovely banks
Keeping Romania from Bulgaria
Ships make time for Soviets
Czechs and Yugoslavians

Now Austrian steel
Brazilian ore and barges of Passau
Drag the charred old ribbon
Out to bathe in the Black Sea

Pantoum on War


Again I hear the drums rebound
Over the hill come bugle and hide
Like skin papered thin on a rim so round
The moon is dancing with stars in its eyes

Over the hill come bugle and hide
A high-pitched hawk fills its gullet with bones
The moon is dancing with stars in its eyes
Children are feasting on drumsticks and stones

The high-pitched hawk fills its gullet with bones
Whoeee! The bugler marches to song
Children are feasting on drumsticks and stones
Heaven and hell are a long way from home

Whoeee! The bugler marches to song
Rat-a-tat-tat calls the world to despair
Heaven and hell are a long way from home
The transparent moon disappears in thin air

Rat-a-tat-tat calls the world to despair
Again I hear the drums rebound
The transparent moon disappears in thin air
Like skin papered thin on a rim so round



Magdalena steps down from the stoop
Pedals her stride in a cherry red skirt
Blood rushes up from her feet

She heads right into the blind spot
Where Roberto’s heart
Has just skipped a beat

Wounded he keeps her in his stride
Negotiating sunlight behind her back
The cruel arrow lodged in his heart

He looks for a sign the wave of her hand
An adjustment to the ribbon in her hair
But today they continue a block apart


In The Winter of Our Longing

for Joyce


You left before
We had the chance
To say goodbye
Before the waning
Light of summer
Had the chance to fix
The stars in new positions

In the sky
We try to find you
In the constellation
Of Aquarius
And in the winter
Of our longing
We must bear the weight
And set our course

The purple finch
Will come again
The hummingbirds
Will drink the nectar
You have set outside
The slider to the deck
Where your beloved

Bill will find you