Friday, December 3

To The North

Think of rain in November,
the all wet around,
and drizzle all over.
Breathe the snow, its fuzz
while outside you're dancing. Feed
the hunger with passion's fruit
and wet your lips
dangle across skin.
Stretch your tongue
taste all this vivid,
its curls and burrows,
the cold ice of Remember.

2 Comments:

Blogger David said...

Waiting for Snow

Rain is an affront to the haughty.
Can’t keep your dignity intact
when drenched to the skin.
No, pride squishes out
from soggy shoes
as wet soles walk away.

But snow...
at a time of year
when the cold blooded
take their unhurried winter rest
to dream of next spring’s sunshine-
Snow is merely a suggestion
to slow down,
to take your leisure.

Snow is heavy, perhaps
an extra particle freezes
onto each frosty molecule.
Heavy winter water
piled…deep
across driveways,
sidewalks,
across roads and bridges.

Snow is anonymity,
creates a classless society,
becomes an equalizer of sorts.
People bundle up against cold,
don masks and heavy hats,
wear baggy parkas hiding the portly
and the svelte.
They slip into warm woolen mittens
concealing hands of young…
and…old.

And a soul can drift through snow
with dignity intact,
seasonal deceleration allows
such things. Cold snow squeaks
cleanly under the heels of boots.

God, I’m so tired of rain.

July 7, 2005 at 4:49 AM  
Anonymous atlas snowshoes said...

I can never find exactly what i need on the web. I was actually searching for winter snowshoes when i came across your site.

Don't get me wrong, Im happy i did. Thats the reason for my comment. I wanted to tell you that even though i searched for winter snowshoes, and ended up your post "To The North", i was very impressed with your content.

Keep up the great work, and i will come back often to look for updates.

Thanks-

October 29, 2005 at 6:26 AM  

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