Sunday, January 24, 2010

Winter is the season of my birth and philosophically if not always practically my favorite season. Writing prompt from Ann triggered a poem cycle that pleases me right now because it captures honestly what winter means to me now,especially givenBob's recent health crisis and my dear sister in law Heidi's remarkable well being despite a crightening diagnosis.

Winter Fear

Flu, falls, suicidal despair,
pneumonia, hypothermia,
ski accident, spin out on
black ice. Some people don't
make it though to spring.
Death hoots through winter trees.
Reminds me, spring will not
come for everyone.

Winter Truth

Winter tells core truth.
No flowers obscure rot.
Flaws meet my eye.
remind my conscience
change is optimal.

Winter Stories

Short days encourage stories
as we sit around warm table
sharing soup and warm cornbread.
Time to remember and honor
gardens past guilt free.
Can't plant yet. Can bask
in recounting memories.


Winter Hope

After longest night,
light begins to return,
creeps in minutes sooner
each cold dusk.
Reminds me life force
gathers unseen beneath
chilling ice. Roots hold
energy after leaf fall,
protect and build hope
for one more cycle
of blossom, leaf and fruit.
Joy and fresh strength
regroup through out the
darkest night of soul.


Mary said...

I like very much the different perspectives on winter.... I like that you end with "Winter Hope."

Anonymous said...

My favorite of these poems is #2. Winter really does show scars and imperfections that spring covers with leaves and flowers. Nice connection for the need to see it and change.


Anonymous said...