- Non-Erotic Poetry
- At the Window
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Click herewalking from car to house
and back again
has left a solemn trail
through the whiteness
that once was a green-brown
lawn,
I sit just inside the door,
thick wooden barrier
to the crisp chill that lurks
outside,
rattling shutter and glass alike,
buried beneath blankets and
watching through the crystal-coated pane
as across the glistening stream
and its automotive banks,
small armies wrapped in nylon-encased
down,
heads and hands bound in wool,
both homemade and store bought,
wage war with wintry weapons
until their numbed limbs
demand
cocoa.
- COMMENTS
LeBrozabout 17 years agoThis poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 34,000 poems.
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LeBrozover 17 years agoThat last word brought this piece up to another level. It's no longer just a wonderfully descriptive piece about winter, but has a very human feel to which most can quickly relate {though I'd most prefer some Suisse Mocha}.
LadyJeanneabout 19 years agoan exceptionally expressive way with words! You've managed to take the mundane detail of an ordinary winter's chill and turn it into a lyrical glory. Terrific poem - loved this! Thank you. LJ
