Tag Archives: winter

To The End

Standard

*
we all walk
bundled up on
winter days
but the dogs

jump for joy

the old man
will not sit by
his fire he takes
himself out

slowly stretching
his steps next
to the lines
of poplars

he will walk to
the end not
a thought
of surrender

.

© 2013

.

Unpublished 2021

Standard

*

sun rays

powerless

reflect away

from the frozen

skin of the small pond

.

there no duck is

allowed to swim in days

like these slivers of ice

compacted together

a strange collage

.

reminiscent of abstract art

fish swimming below unseen

.

.

Once More

Standard

*

I did read six pages
this morning
to make me revolve
once more
in the right direction
it has been
long since I could
poetry came
to give me a hand
to see who
am I once more

.

.

 

 

hipstamaticphoto-568988175.022984

.

Feeling sad… The six pages mentioned in this poem I published Tuesday are those of a Mary Oliver book, and today, two days later, she passed away…

.

Winter Rhythm

Standard

*

awe rising with
me in the
early morning

snow covering
the tall mountains
in the desert

three days
of rain almost
continuous

a rare sound
tip tapping
on the skylights

winter holds it’s
own rhythm
lacking patience

to stay longer

.

.

img_9438

.

.

.

The London Hours, 2012

Standard

*

following a long winter rain
tears falling on a wet
lonely bosom
.
I breath many
short and close
small, compacted
.
a vision after another
slim as a trail out
of a dark maze
.
punches, songs to my
heart, reconciled
your beauty sipping in
.
the scum dried on me
washed out, left on the
ground among dirt
.
where worms thrive

.

.

The London Hours, 2012

Standard

The London Hours
.
No more us and I, and them
Night time nearing at 1pm
No wind chill, no chills,
Remote coldness.
.
This winter isn’t like
The one you handed me
In colored paper
And ribbons I was excited to untie,
It will be the usual
Gloom of day-spair,
Of no directions,
No sense.
.
Look right, look left,
Mind the gap, do not cross,
Where to, no more zebras,
Just hyenas and victims,
Many of us.
.
I know you not,
You took up a different passport,
Broke the legs of time and sunk
Somewhere where I do not find
Air to breath and there are
No kisses to revive me.
.
It’s the tallest solitude,
No eyes to lay on,
No tiptoeing naked,
No coughing the bodies against,
No nightlong reviving.
.
No snow, no strolls, no fog,
No sleepover nestling.
No, no, no, no, no.
Yes, that’s all.
.
.