Bare branches,
naked ground,
empty sky,
hollow water,
even the sun
is gone
most of the time.
How can I miss
the snowless winter
and long nights?
And yet
I look at the old pictures
and wonder
whether they ever return:
the cold wind
and the smell of dry
stubborn grass,
crispy silence disturbed
by the last
birds heading south,
puddles reflecting
everything better side up
and blush
that my smile
brings to your cheeks
when we run.
Will they ever come back?
Comments
interesting idea
to have nostalgia for the northern winter. In the most north regions the sun is indeed gone for the season. So when I read that the poet is asking how can that be missed (especially with the spring here!) i am looking for an answer.. would it be the sense that we all have a dark side, and revel in it, like a suffering which you own because it is yours alone, and comforts you? I don't see a resolution to this nostalgia in this poem yet.
In the final part of the poem you introduce a "you" , a companion in your "run" which is too undefined, and not sure how it fits.
I would continue with the theme of migration (birds) and more define for the reader these feelings and doubts and confront it head on.
..
Hi Eumolpus!
Hi Eumolpus!
the answer is in the companion, one can miss northern dark winter if there is a friend.
Thank you for reading and commenting, perhaps I should develop the connection between the stanzas to make my statement more clear
hollow water,
NOT sure
did u mean
shallow !
yes a friend in the western world
replaces
all relatives
in the far East
No hollow, empty, transparent
No hollow, empty, transparent and dead water
and the smell of (a) dry stubborn grass,
'''a''' may be superfluous
please review it poet
there is now some seriousness
in my comment
may be
Corrected, thank you
Corrected, thank you
Fortunately sooner or later
Fortunately sooner or later the seasons return...
.......................................................................................
Beautifully written
Nostalgia for the cold dreary winter theme is intriguing.
Hello Barbara.
Hello Barbara.
Thank you for reading.
To answer your question, It is nostalgia for my friend who made bleak winter attractive to me.
The answer is in the last line.
Hi iriz
I didn’t have a question. I just found it intriguing. Great poem
Okay, thanks
Okay, thanks