Thursday, February 19, 2009

The Thaw

The curl of the wind around my house 

in winter

an evil grip on my breath

a visitor unwelcome

an emotional rip

The sweat of the sky 

dripping all over my roof 

like gym clothes too big and too worn

The smell of earth tainted by waiting

and tears of too long

and to where I belong

the river sings muddled 

old songs of melted mountains 

of valleys caressed

of fish now extinct and of old plants beloved

she drones out a tune 

in a rolling refrain

and the creatures are caught in the moon

Twice in the morning the dawn 

takes a swim

only to greet the sharp winters grin

as she sharpens her icicle swords in the air

the maiden of spring is reminded to share

Twice in the evening 

the dreams come to dance

in my head like a summer's unending romance

where the winter is slain 

and my gardens remain

where my clothes are peeled visciously 

off

In my free skin I run 

with my gathering mind 

in my satchel I place fragrant needles of pine

in my free skin I moan

to the voluptuous mud 

to the unfrozen frogs 

and my thawed winter blood

down the river she warbles 

and dribbles and spoons

and undulates stories

of never told moons

like an asana ancient and worth repetition

yet current with changes and new definitions

as I watch her in dreamland 

lucid I trust

my mortal existance gets left in the dust 

for a night of free living 

in waterlogged lust

The clasp of the cold 

is beginning to go

as the sap rises up 

making new out of old

bringing 

up

warm

sugar

and 

feeding me

again






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