The Fall of Winter

 

Here it is halfway through winter

And I have yet to find

A way to your heart before

The snow piles up so high against the door

That I cannot get out from myself.

…..

Yet the sun shines

Through the window, through my eyes,

Through my mind, through to you

Yet not your heart

Which escapes in the shadows never

To find my door and dig me out.

…….

this winter half empty

And I can’t wait for spring, the filling

Where the only shadows are those I cast,

The only heart I can’t find, God’s,

But first I must drink up the winter

And find myself in good Canadian whiskey

And the warmth of a well insulated house

That keeps me from you.

Category: Poems 6 comments »

6 Responses to “The Fall of Winter”

  1. ALiCe__M

    I love the first stanza. Strong beautiful image. It says it all, the rest is superfluous, IMHO.

  2. George

    I love this poem!
    It can evoke the atmosphere perfectly. We are snowbound now, there is more snow coming this weekend and I am sitting here in the warmth of a well insulated house. The first stanza is truly brilliant, the second is like a soft intermezzo, and the third one I like because I can easily put myself in his place.
    Reading it I felt no need to leave anything out… to me it sounds natural as it is.

  3. David

    George,

    Thanks, I treasure your comments. And yes, we are snowbound in Seoul and I was thinking of this, thinking of love and that intensity of experience and mind….

    For me, the line that stands out is “spring, the filling” . I will have to write a poem about that. I remember years ago in Kyiv when it finally started to thaw after the winter, I wrote a wonderful poem about it. Must be in one of my mile high poetry notebooks back home in the backwoods of Canada. I’ll dig that one out some day. :)

    Alice,

    Yes, I agree the start is good and much better than the rest. Also, less is more and poetry should in general follow that rule. If you can write 3/4 lines cleanly, you’ve captures “a moment” and that’s all that counts. This guy, Max, you might also like. He has one really nice Louis Aragon poem (along with Valery , a fav. of mine).
    http://www.maxizone.fr/2005/09/26/jarrive-ou-je-suis-etranger/

  4. Cristina

    I read it three times and saved it to my own computer. Aka, it is perfect. Two words only tear the roundness of it…”Canadian” and “insulated”…but I love imperfections.

  5. ellen

    Stop drinking, David!

    I am teasing, but this is also always good advice : )
    (I am not completely teasing)

    I see what Alice means, that the first stanza can stand by itself, and lets the reader fill in his/her own details.

    But I also like hearing the details, the sun shining through the window, the wish that she would find you.

    And the Canadian whiskey/ well insulated house grounds the poem in the details of a real person.

    My response to this poem, if I didn’t know the poet, would be that we are in control of our own hearts. No matter how it feels, we open and close them at will.

    If the poet was a loved one I’d also say oh honey, I’ll shovel you out! Where’s the shovel?

    For myself, in my own life, I’ve found that I have to shovel myself out. There’s really no one standing outside the door. Or rather, they don’t know the door is there, that there is snow, that I need them to shovel.

    Here’s to spring.

  6. George

    Beautiful comment Ellen, I would not say it better!
    Cristina, see and that is what I liked about the ending, particularly the words Canadian whisky and a very well insulated house (which can better keep you from somebody:-)+ the phrase “drink up the winter”.
    We are all different, so David can carry on writing:-)

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