it can’t be winter…
if I believed the calendar, the wavering
in my stride, my fading memories, the
thinning of my hair and skin, I might
be convinced that it is winter, as you say
but my heart still sings sweet odes to
spring, of quiescent vales greening,
blooming buds, air fragrant with lilacs
and honeysuckle, it was only yesterday
a robin called my name and it was
dawn, I am sure of it, the day flushed
with golden haze, the breeze a-buzz
with the hum of honeybees, of gardens
laden with tubers, beans and peas,
it could be summer after all, my heart’s
refrain, a reverie of endless days, of salty
air and sand, tree leaves pitapatting in
the wind, like the sound of my children’s
tiny feet, growing heavier with each passing
day, it can’t be winter yet, I’ve still so much
to do and say, no matter that the night
is looming, there are dreams yet to
be realized, a reckoning, as chill sets
in, a letting go, a harvesting, how like
the autumn trees I cling to every turning
leaf until it’s time to let them go, now
that I mention it, it must be fall, it can’t
be winter yet…and yet…I saw a snowflake
flutter by, it caught my eye, suspended,
drifting slowly, I suspect a few more
still, and in the silent winter white perhaps
I write; I’ll weave a tapestry of spring, of
summer, and of fall, time slipping through
my hands like sand, I’m tired, I admit it,
how beautiful, how still, the muffled hills
look dressed in snow, how blessed am
I to be here still to see it ‘fore I go
~kat
For NaPoWriMo 2019 Prompt #25:
write a poem that:
- Is specific to a season
- Uses imagery that relates to all five senses (sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell)
- Includes a rhetorical question, (like Keats’ “where are the songs of spring?”)
April 25th, 2019 at 1:38 pm
Beautiful, Kat.
I often wonder just when I will consider it to be winter, even when I look back and see how much has passed.
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April 25th, 2019 at 1:48 pm
In years, I suppose I am in Winter, but in my heart and soul I find things to be a bit more fluid. 🙂 Thanks Ken.
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April 25th, 2019 at 4:15 pm
Kat, this is so very real, very clever, and a little disconcerting. I often feel that I have all seasons in a single day, sometimes more than 4 seasons in a day. I am thankful that I have seen all the seasons. Some are not so lucky. I think this needs an extra large hug, in thanks. xx
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April 25th, 2019 at 5:16 pm
I love hugs! Thank you Peter. There is a certain resignation that comes with age…things don’t take on the urgency that they once did. There is a certain peace in that. And of course in that slowing one also considers their own mortality. It does sneak up on you though, doesn’t it? 😉 ❤
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April 25th, 2019 at 5:51 pm
I rejoice with every new wake up!
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April 25th, 2019 at 6:09 pm
Oh…me too! Every day is a gift!
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April 25th, 2019 at 8:24 pm
OMG. What a poet you are. Wow.
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April 25th, 2019 at 9:17 pm
Oh gosh! Thank you D! 😊
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April 25th, 2019 at 10:45 pm
Loved this, Kat–my fave part is that a robin called your name! I could revel in that all day! 🙂
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April 25th, 2019 at 11:13 pm
Thank you Ennle. 😊
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April 25th, 2019 at 11:28 pm
Most welcome, Kat 🙂
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