Late Year
Winter long in tooth, but winter all right.
Used automobiles decorously rusted.
Buses, heavy and slow as water buffalo.
Women in scarfs like Arabs in Sri Lanka.
The men tramp the arctic with Shackleton.
The city cold as Rejevec or Pyonyag.
Stores close early, street traffic thins.
Traffic signals blink into the closing dark.
The quiet gloom, late winter in the city.
A cello next door, flat as plate glass.
My divorce, yellow pages of legal talk.
Mistakes I'm still trying to correct.
My small town is deaf and thoughtless.
It's winter, I am forgetful, comatose
like a dead letter in a rural post office.
Revised version with last two verses reversed:
Winter long in tooth, but winter all right.
Used automobiles decorously rusted.
Buses, heavy and slow as water buffalo.
Women in scarfs like Arabs in Sri Lanka.
Men wrapped head-to-toe like Shackleton.
The city cold as Rejevec or Pyonyag.
Stores close early, street traffic thins.
Traffic signals blink into narrowing dark,
gloom on weather vanes and parking lots.
I withdraw to blankets and mufflers.
Repetitious weather and news bulletins.
It's winter, I am forgetful, comatose
like a dead letter in a rural post office.
A cello next door, flat as plate glass.
My divorce, yellow pages of legal talk.
Mistakes I'm still trying to correct.
Late Winter
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- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: Late Winter
Good poem....no suggestions. I like the next to last stanza best. I might even consider it for the last stanza...but it's a close call....
Re: Late Winter
hi Bob:
yup, I agree. thanks for your thoughts.
bernie
yup, I agree. thanks for your thoughts.
bernie