February 28, 2013

Winter Wall




…………………………………Sitting on the edge of the warm flannel sheets
…………………………………soaking the windowed heat from the sun
…………………………………through to the heart of me,
…………………………………I let the cold of the day
…………………………………fly away into the grey
…………………………………of the winter lit sky and
…………………………………the black bones of the trees. 
…………………………………I wait warming the cold skin inside my toes
…………………………………so the lack of focus in my brain
…………………………………will blossom into some form
…………………………………of perspective, some form of who I am now
………………………………   while waiting here on the edge for a
…………………………………revelation or acceptance
…………………………………of the cold winter dance.

7 comments:

  1. I was with you until you mentioned "her" bed and the photo is one of a memorial to a man. So I am treading water fast. A deep and struggling mood from this as well.

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  2. Can't dwell here to long. Sorrow too much for me. he was so young. Dianne

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  3. Feel just that way on days that promise nothing buy clouds, rain and sleet pinging against the windows. Waiting for the thin line of spring dawn to appear in the horizon.

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  4. Thanks for taking the critical comment so well. I do feel this has a better flow for me. So sad, though, everytime we lose someone we are close to.

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  5. Thanks for your comment today. Yes, the older I get the younger folks seem when they die.

    David says he can see fine and he can drive and he's not taking taxis. I said, he is also a stubborn old stoat. Dianne

    ReplyDelete

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