I don’t know what it is about winter that inspires the poet in me but it does. Maybe it’s being able to see through uncluttered bare branches, to see what I didn’t notice during the distraction of Fall. Anyway I am just grateful for the gift of another poem.
This is not your gentle January.
This month means business.
Freeze drying the brain
Shoving shiv ‘ring bones within
To seek refuge nigh
There to brood on shortened days
To cry dry tears for dead dreams
And look back in anguish.
Or perhaps, January says “go out”.
Sip in the icy breath of life.
Dance merrily on the slippery way.
Dare to fall and rise again.
And look ahead in awe.
© E.M. Ramos 1/8/2010
The next poem was inspired by my dear friend Mary, 95 years young, who says that she seems to be sleeping most of the day. I have long connected late life with winter. And so ….
Winter time’s for sleeping.
That’s just the way it is.
All the world appears dead,
Draped in dried, drab reminders
Of Autumn’s harvest.
Yet just below the surface
Life lies in quiet repose.
Dreaming of Spring
Hoping for rebirth.
© E.M. Ramos 1/17/2010