winter anyway, a love poem by pd lyons


 

used to walk by trees like these

a country where winter meant deep snow
wind sometimes cut  wounds like a smile across my face

a great breathless
no-doubt-about-being alive-rush  deep New England winter

 

Made my way to some place I knew existed then,

slight shelter from the gale

flick and fumble

eventually light
sacramental cigarette

to the east, to the south, to the west, to the north, as above so below,
as within, so with out, on the smoke that is my prayer…

and somehow all I could do was say thank you –
for this snow,
this wind,
this gunmetal sky,
this bit of shelter crook of a stone wall
this cold, cold, cold against the small heat of my beating heart

 

 

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Comments

  • Phil Benevent  On May 23, 2016 at 7:36 pm

    Great imagery. Felt it, knew it. Thanks. Phil

    Liked by 1 person

  • Edward-David Ruiz  On June 12, 2016 at 1:37 am

    Loved the images, loved the tone; love the entire poem, one of the better ones from your part of the world. ed/scott p.s. just got back from our five-day japan sojourn…and we’re still limping badly from all that walking, mostly on uneven terrain.

    Like

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