Winter Hibernation

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I step down the walk path,
feet bare to the ice
as I pick up the lead,
and beckon the beagle back inside.

There is no sensation
of pain upon the touch of cold.

My eyes do not squint
because of the December buffer
between me and the sun.

No irritation, no desire, no lust,
just numbness in response to everything.

There is something similar
inside my brain,
like a buffer between me
and the pain sensation of heartbreak.

I do not register any sorts of pain
through the sleepwalk of emotional winter.

I'm safe from feeling
until the thaw of emotional spring,
when release of ice brings release of blood,
and the first tenderness interrupts me,
then finally flows from me,
and I know I'm alive,
once more.

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4 Comments
TathagataTathagataover 19 years ago
your poem

has been mentioned in todays reviews

TathagataTathagataover 19 years ago
your poem

has been mentioned in todays reviews

TathagataTathagataover 19 years ago
your poem

has been mentioned in todays reviews

sandspikesandspikeover 19 years ago
You know the deal

I like this because it is written well and I agree with it.

See you in the spring.

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