March 02, 2012
I'm not sure what happened to January's poems... somehow I must have deleted them... DANG! Well, I hope I don't make the same mistake this time. Anyway, this poem I've been working on foe several months. I hope it says what I intended.
Awake
We who slumber far too long in autumn
sleep
must bear the winter on our feathered
backs like proper sparrows (yes,
that’s what we are), enslaved by
snowy chains and stormy shackles,
whipping winds which
cleave the heart to halves...
Let’s spread
the day out on the lawn
let's yawn
old Sol to being,
let’s stretch
our wings across
the thicket
thick with hibernating
streams which
cast their
skinny arms
like ghostly masts
below the
weeping elms,
their sails
no longer
catching wind...
Let's be the shadows skipping on
the grassless knolls,
the tiny trolls that venture forth
into the mushroom colored day, let’s
sing
in fragile harmony a single memory of living.
Be alive
though death still stalks
the rivers,
creeks and bogs,
the forests
deep in sleepy fog,
the frost
stained earth, that careless
grave where lies
our crow stripped bones.
Have hope. Spring will arrive
blessing all with warm, wet showers,
pastures green for naked feet
to dance upon, and thick oak leaves will
shade us from the blistering of wind
and sun...
Have hope. Awake;
our life to be
has yet to come.
—rrw 1-3-12
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