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Sensing Winter

Menacing clouds join their hands above my head,
tearing me from the arms of my lover, the sun.

Trees shoot their annual fireworks display,
silently signaling the beginning of the end.

It is then that the selfish corner of my heart turns angry,
batting its cardinal wings against the coming cold.

My bones and skin echo the sentiment,
tensing and writhing against its touch.

Meanwhile, my love gathers wood for the fire,
pulling the season in as I push it away.

He speaks as a child of crunching footsteps and trees of glass,
as if sweet summer’s hue was green only with envy.

Then, slowly, my thoughts' eyes close and my body finds its breath. Snuggled halfway between hot chocolate and cool jazz,

Feeling somewhat guilty of betraying my sun,
I yield to the touch of winter’s hand once again.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 5 votes ) 6

Comments (6)

Some lovely impressions here. While I liked the penultimate couplet, the opener is a startling metaphor that reminds me of Ovid or Homer. Well done.
Wonderful, the ambivalence about the loss of the sun and the anticipated xcitement that comes from a fire that is made by your lover, Gershon
:) lovely poem.. I love the sun too! Especially the first few lines were superb! HBH
Lori...this is great. You know how much I love those cuplets. Gets and 11.
yes, i really like this! reminds me of some lines from one of my favourite poems: 'Whoever has no house now will not build one anymore. Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long time, will stay up, read, write long letters, and wander the avenues, up and down, restlessly, while the leaves are blowing. from Rainer Maria Rilke “Autumn Day”
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