mercredi 2 février 2011

long winter

countdown to nothingness
my boots are growing heavy
the sky fills with wave after wave
of crazed birds that should have left
while they still had a chance

it's cold, little ones, so cold
the storms are overarching
in northwest oregon
winter offers barren birches
and crows and hungry urchins

we're all searching for
signs of springtime like
little buds on moss-covered
pears and red leaflets on
unsculpted asian maples

open the door and let
the cold air rush in
take a deep breath of
still liquid ocean
then sleep like a bear

it's february, with many days
to the end of endless grays
fill your belly or look for
your thickest wool sweater
try not to scratch yourself silly

3 commentaires:

Stirling Davenport a dit…

This is so good, Laura. Entering the cold through the mental lens through poetry is almost enough to keep us warm.

bluerose a dit…

I just love the imagry in this one, as I sit here with numb toes and scratching myself silly ;]

Moineau En France a dit…

:>>))) thanks for making me smile... big! xoxoxoox