That sunny day
beguiled.
Promises of warmth.
Such trust to place
in rays,
those sparkling
reflections on the snow.
Liars.
Every
one.
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poem- slow January 4, 2017
I’m moving through molasses
going slowly,
thinking like my thoughts are spilled ink
too dark to decipher.
Winter weather draws the sky closer,
closeting us in cloud,
so much white is blinding.
Days are short, but oh, so, slow
and cold.
poem- suspended December 15, 2016
We are waiting.
The cloud reclines darkly above the lake.
The snow line drops lower.
The cold creeps and seethes.
Inside, bricks channel the chill.
Children vibrate, “It’s coming! It’s coming!”
It’s so hard to sit still and concentrate.
Adults sniffle and cough, mutter, “Soon. Soon.”
They dream of freedom, warmth, of sleeping in.
Christmas holidays can’t come
quickly enough.
poem- swimming December 11, 2015
Our bodies are mostly water
and my head is swimming as I lie.
Consciousness swirling in eddies,
I’m drowning in myself.
poem- the day after November 12, 2015
snow falling
between the rain
the pavement becomes a black hole
sucking out the light
I return hoping
but the house is cold
and I must find
my own dinner.
poem-ill October 22, 2015
Sickness weighs heavy
body aches as if it is encased in cement
limbs do not want to move,
throat scratches,
eyes droop,
incision throbs,
skin shivers.
Every part of me weighed down
and longing to fall into sleep.
.
.
.
I’m definitely coming down with something! Yesterday I was falling asleep at 8 p.m. Tonight it wasn’t even 6 p.m. Good night!
