Wintry Blue…Dark

Sums up the winter months in poetic form.

While Driving Home One Winter Evening


Too many, too much, tangled
wordless weaving through the light
of the branches lacing the wintry blue,
sliding sideways, breathless to reach
an ending, a beginning, really
anything new or different

or

“Really, you dramatize the sit=u=a=tion.”

“Drama isn’t reserved for teens, it’s not, it’s not!”

“It’s not? Even when you resemble the
children in your life you analyze the
dramatic inflection of your voice…”

[did i inflect the vowel necessarily noun the verb and toss
a few conjugations into the bowl to bitterize the
smooth?]

Playing isn’t saying anything real. It’s real that shouts
to be spoken, to light the pathways in your mind.

Shout at me, reality! Speak story into…

…snowstorm swirling round, have to drive carefully now.
Two more miles, I hope the deer are sound asleep
far from the road. I hate waking in the dark,
leaving for work in the dark, coming home again,
lacing the wintry blue, turn on the radio;

Stop thinking in the dark.


© EAW 5/18/06