Tag: winter

Spring II

by Lindsay, posted in poetry

I woke up on the right side of the bed this morning
With the sun shining through my eyelids
Before I even knew I was awake
And my ear angled just right
To hear the feather-winged chatter
That I so missed during the months
of wading in drifted snow
     (with my head down,
         looking for something lost,
         though I’d long forgotten what I was searching for)
 
Today I will meet everyone at their eyes
 
Though I know
Spring is a fickle lover
For this moment
I am choosing bliss

Featherweight

by Lindsay, posted in poetry 
We spend our winters building hardened resistance 
Through the routine of shoulder hunching and thickening blood 
 As gradually the filtered light that shifts 
 Across wood panels and kitchen tiles
 Lingers into longer hours.
  
 Without cognizance, we let fall
Our experiences, as a dog 
Sheds its winter coat
 Throughout 
 Each houseroom.
  
 Leaving our
 Convictions as paper scraps to be 
 Swept up with toast crumbs – 
 and our tear drops 
 for mopping.
  
 Never knowing the
 Featherweight
 Of our skin
 Until it is.
  
 And we stand
 Pondering
 The swiftness of
 Transformation.
Photo by Irene Lasus on Pexels.com

This poem was written for the dVerse prompt given by Lillian on Tuesday to write a poem containing a form of the word shed. https://dversepoets.com/2019/01/22/shed-some-light-on-this-today/

Seoul

by Lindsay, posted in poetry, travel, writing 
The rain came down on Seoul.
My soul it bathed and seduced.
For a sole wanderer far from home,
Seoul filled my sole soul with youth.

It’s raining today and I don’t want it to be. It’s a cold, dreary January rain and I want nothing more than for it to be snowing. I am deeply craving the quiet that comes with powdery snow, and the even deeper cold that comes with that snow. I am not quite sure why. I have always identified myself as a “summer person.” Despite the fact that I want it to be snowing, the current weather reminded me of this brief poem that I wrote some time ago while reminiscing about living in Korea. I lived there ten years ago.

Summer came early that year in Korea, bringing heat and heaviness to the air. The trademarks of summer that I was used to–blue skies, clear sunshine–were not there. Even on cloudless days, the sun was obscured by haze. It rained a lot in July, and even when the clouds left the sky, the sun was but a blurred glow, having the same effect as viewing a light through a frosted window. In those days I welcomed the rain. For a few years after I returned from Korea, hot and rainy summer days often flooded my mind with memories of my time overseas. All weather talk aside, I loved spending time in Seoul and would go back again in a heartbeat.

Although as I am writing this, it is not hot and humid, and is in fact January, and on top of that I want nothing more than two feet of snow, I still could not resist posting a blurb about summer rain in Seoul.

I Wear This Winter Like a Cloak

by Lindsay, posted in poetry 
I wear this winter like a cloak
 Unlike past winters that have worn me.
  
 Each visible puff of breath 
 Proof of existing (and
Nevertheless rosy-cheeked),
 In spite of northerly wind
 And bleakened landscape.
  
 As I breathe life out into this bitter world
It breathes it back into me.
  
 For on these cold winter nights
 We are all chimneyed-factories,
 Burning heat within and
 Emitting puffs of steam 
 Against the long night sky.