Saturday, January 7, 2017

Hibernation Blinks

Pallid leaves flattened by softened sleep
Nestle among the remnants of our waking dream

Our nostalgic ruminations glisten
In the afternoon haze
As the first pioneering flakes begin to fall

Leaving snow kisses that appear
Like forgotten or yet to be lovers
Before dissolving on earth's tongue

There's something tentative about the season
Months of winter still to come

In that pause between the deep breath
Of lighted trees
And the side streets banked with old snow

We find the path we carved out
In the unforgiving past
Inhabited by disappearing longings
And inappropriate ambitions

It's there in clear, straight lines
Beneath the layer of icy leaves
That our ghost dogs love to sniff
For the rabbity fragrance of tomorrow.


Anonymous said...

Now I want to go out and catch the snowflakes on my tongue...

Stirling Davenport said...

A wise use of snowflakes.