No ... winter hasn't come to Ohio ... yet. But it will. This morning, though, I'm thinking ahead ... well beyond winter to ... those things I speak of at the end of the poem.
For now:
WINTER COMES
When it arrives like
a gentle rustling
descending a stairway,
the wary resident
might slam a deadbolt
against it like some
grumping, groggy bear,
were it not for a tiny
preserved memory
of a far warmer world,
where flowers are not
mere speculations,
where the ice has fallen
away, the bees jubilant.
© 2000
(received an honorable mention in a Poets Study Club competition)
***
Today's word: jubilant
Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:
Here I am snowed under again ... no, not with real snow, just those many details that seem to crowd my day ... and it's all my fault, Southernmush ... and I apologize, to you ... and others ... for failing to keep up my portion of the conversation. It seems I'm always trying to catch up ... and I appreciate your patience. I appreciate your comments, too ... especially when I discover that one of my poems has found a home in a handwritten journal. I can think of no higher honor ... and I thank you so much for that. It really helps to keep me going. Best wishes.
1 comment:
Hello Mr. Brimm,
Good evening. I have to say what a beautiful poem this is. Its been like Autumn has arrived early in Georgia the weather has been wonderful. Its hard to be indoors these last couple of days. I have to say that since Autumn is here Winter might not be too far behind. I long for a little snow. I don't know if it will snow here but I would love to see everything get coated in cold white sugar. Thanks for the poem I will add this one to my handwritten journal. This will be perfect for my entry tonight. Thanks again. Take care.
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