..
I am December’s darker sister, unspangled,
halls decked only in hope, resolution, a fugue
of fog and chill and willpower oft broken by
the halfmark. I am deep in debt and the un
-veiled threat of days spooled out like empty
boxes waiting, wishes wanting. I am dead
of winter, splintered into icy mapless roads.
I am cotton threaded sky, the why of days
spent, new dawn pondering the what that lies
ahead. I am born with a party, put to bed
with a sigh. I am long. Longing. Built slow
of sober cobbled gray, but great with child.
.
A persona poem written for Poetic Asides.
“cotton threaded sky” is a brilliant phrase. Nice. >
Love the third couplet and THIS magnificence:
” I am born with a party, put to bed with a sigh.”
What a powerful ending:
“Built slow
of sober cobbled gray, but great with child.”
This makes me think of when I found out I was pregnant with my first. Completely shocking and unexpected, and big time with “the wrong guy.” But I knew that however terrified I was, I would get rid of the bad stuff and embrace the good. I completely made myself and my life over to give my everything to my daughter.
And also, it’s about Mary.
Ohmigosh. Brilliant response to the prompt, from the “name,” to the end. And WHEN are you going to publish a book, m’dear???
MAN, is that ever a good question. Different side of the brain. One I don’t have, apparently. Sigh.
But we NEED! We NEED! 😀
Thank you. Humbled. Honored. Tired. 😉
I really think there’s something to be said about *not* publishing a book. There are SO MANY books out there. It’s impossible to read even a thumb-stack of them (whatever that means). But this, what you’re doing, is *live* poetry. It’s a motion picture never recorded. It’s “catch me if you can” writing/publishing. It’s like a magic book, if you ask me. And you can’t pay for that sort of entertainment/enlightenment. You just have to count yourself blessed to be gifted with it. I, for one, consider myself one of the lucky few who get to read and really *get* you.
Oh, but that’s fabulous!