|
fingers do get restless
by Kristina Woodhillfingers do get restless
joints ache for hot wax
this gray inversion of winter
has settled in and on me,
indeterminate as
last summer's
creeping, tumbling tomato vine
sans the bright green, lush leaves
sans the running rich juice
sucked through stained teeth
it is a vampire
wet, thick cape wrapping round
enough light to sense
that hint of danger
as foot meets
the bridge's leading board
but eyes fail
to glimpse the
faded warning sign
it is the dimmer switch
pupil's flare to grab onto
familiar, solid shapes
a bit of dizzy
vestibular readjustments
a slow waltz seems
just right
long woolen skirts duplicate
the flow
Andrew Wyeth's brush is stilled;
Christina's World continues calmly
to receive us.
melancholy or contemplative?
stark crippling reality or
a landscape of
life uncluttered but enduring?
there is time to think
when gardens do not grow
when heat does not pull the
bulbs to sprout and bury us
in noisy technicolor
smother us in paper whites
insist we pay attention and
shake that back-door
boot rug daily
fingers do get restless
letters rearrange
01/16/2009
Posted on 01/16/2009
Copyright © 2024 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 01/16/09 at 07:23 PM Hi Kristina, love this. It dances near the tempting images of spring remembered and spring yet to come. It has been gray, it is melancholia,
this poem is a delight in its images. This is cool: "the dimmer switch pupil's flare to grab onto." Thanks.
|
| Posted by George Hoerner on 01/16/09 at 08:01 PM Really nice write Kristina. You certainly jostle the mind with your images. |
| Posted by Colleen Sperry on 01/17/09 at 12:04 AM loved the last two stanza! |
| Posted by Jared Fladeland on 01/17/09 at 05:23 AM i really enjoy that second to last stanza. it burns through at a breakneck speed. if this were a song, it'd be a great climax, with a lovely hushing back to sleep with that last stanza. |
| Posted by James Blaylock on 04/25/11 at 11:40 AM Awesome last 2 stanzas! I really got into this piece. |
|
