Cold Winter Nights

 

Aha! Another poem about writing ... touching somewhat on a process that remains something of a mystery to me ... but also reaching the heart of the matter, I think, the satisfaction that comes from putting thoughts on paper.

The poem:

 

COLD WINTER NIGHTS

I have dreamed

that my poetry

might go like

wildfire lighting

the emptiness

of night, dancing

ahead of the wind,

smoke of creation,

furious burning,

rising to join

the lingering clouds,

drifting, drifting.

 

Ah, but a smaller

fire it is,

burning within,

chasing nothing

before it, raising

no alarms, warming

only me on these

cold winter nights

with a lamp

keeping me company,

and these scratchings.

© 1996

(originally published in ByLine)

***

Today's word: wildfire

LOOKING BACK (again) ... this time all the way to the May 10, 2002, issue of the (late lamented) Squiggles & Giggles.

I shared a poem entitled "Shy People" in that issue, and then said this:

I'm not saying that writers are shy people, or even that regular readers of "Squiggles," or visitors to my web page, are shy people. They're busy. They have other things on their minds. Other places to be. Other fish to fry.

They don't hang around long. They zip past lie a roadrunner, with a beep-BEEP! and a tiny cloud of dust that's struggling to keep up with them.

On the other hand, there are those who always find a moment or two to say a few words in passing. And I appreciate them all, the busy who zip away, and the really busy who still find a moment to say something in response to what I've written.

After all, where would I be without either group? Most likely sitting here talking to myself, that's where. And I'm not a good listener when I talk to myself.

BUT, HEY, thanks for listening to me.

 

Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:

Thank you, June, for sharing your reaction to the poem. I keep saying that poetry is meant to be shared ... and I really believe that. Then, when someone indicates they have heard or read one of my poems ... and they like it ... well, that's a great, really great, reward.

And thank you, Southernmush, for that heartwarming response to today's entry. I will certainly try to keep on keepin' on, because I continually find myself in good company ... and I like that. Oh, and Happy New Year to you, too! 

I'm honored, Vicki, that you linked your readers to this poem. Sometimes I feel like I'm standing on a street corner ... "sharing" my poems with those passing by ... not really knowing, though, that they "hear" me ... even though the counter gives some evidence that people have at least taken a look. And now ... beep-BEEP! ... I have to be on my way. There were so many things I had hoped to do this year ... and time appears to be running out. Best wishes in the coming new year.