I’ve flinched through it,
Starched, paralysing January
And it’s pregnant yellowness,
I bear this colour and its dormancy
Clenched in my fist.
It reminds me of December.
My mind roped down, Lilliputian,
And your sobering intentions
Of optimism and snowflakes
Lie beyond this.
It’s bleach cold and I’m cynical.
My hands shrimp red,
My face flung Antarctic,
Retracted, my lips pursed shut
As if I am recoiling from an accusation.
Comments
Dendrite | March 6, 2008 - 23:52
I like this very much, all startling lines.
poetjude | March 7, 2008 - 11:46
Yes, this is good. Nice control of language;
'bleach cold' 'shrimp red' 'face flung Antarctic' are lines I especially enjoyed. The poem isn't too busy and the sparing use of images adds to the idea of stark winter. 'Pregnancy' (and pregnant) I think are a little overused in poetry but I forgive it here since the poem works well for me!
jude
Doeslittle | March 7, 2008 - 19:13
Thanks very much for comments. I haven't noticed the pregnancy overuse thing before, but think pregnant is quite a good way to describe winter so am content enough with it here too.
LawOfTheOne | March 10, 2008 - 00:14
Perfectly captured the season in question.
Deserved the cherry.
It makes me glad we're into spring.