Winter Sun

colour of porphyry, South Sea coral,
seeps onto the horizon—dawn arrives
palest of children, gold poppet
with a hint of mortality about her

noon, the stare of sun matches
the coldest cop, the hardest beggar,
their contest danced between ragged
pedestrian breath snatched away

by sheets of unwritten white, whisked
up to the hammer blow of world
emptying at the top; winter sun shines
on a not so objective observer

we strive to roll the ball a little faster
as if our thoughts could move the sun
we seek to replace sere yellow with iridescent
fish finning summer school of memory

dusk proves there are no unnatural
colours as heaven indulges in an orgy
of neon pastels, and the sun pauses
to determine what is to come

we grasp a new thought found in vapour,
swirled by honing edge of winter, we see
light of memory is a seed of promise
winter sun dreams on — a not so distant star

the electricity of snow

skates crystalline, the pass
of sunlight to the corner
the zigzag impossible bank
direct to the rods and cones
exposition of white noise
as light crackles about you
crazy explosion of spark
leaps to sky zone, laps
your horizon and keeps
on going, straight to the
North Pole, more than magnetic
like neon flowing at your feet

the sibilance of snow

ear packed with wet snow
as you walk home hatless
squeak in a field of frozen
susurration, place of foot
like someone scrunching
Styrofoam, whisper of crystal
as your ears bleed in razor edged
wind, the silent explosion
as the field of absolute white
blinds you and you hear forever
for once

The Emptiness of Winter

It is not enough that you
confront the emptiness
of yourself,
of the world.

This frozen soul
forces me to
contemplate
an endless waste
entirely
of my making.

Laugh and it is torn from you.
Cry and your tears freeze.
Plead—no one will free you—

you get one chance.

The binding of boots

The binding of boots,
is matched by mufflings
of thick cloth, scarves, gloves
to meet slush caked to concrete—
Winter is the day
you discover a new song
that promises so much.

A change of climate.
A change of heart.
No hesitation.
No compromise.

Winter cuts away years
and makes a new day.
The palimpsest challenges
the ever-changing record
of personal evidence writ,
then destroyed, but now
melted resolve is fast frozen.
We walk upon empty promises,
unafraid to promise again,
to dream, desperate to be free,
despite that which binds us.

 

 

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