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Winter Sailing
by Kristina Woodhill
Two days
the gray sailed above us,
echoes of the Pacific
bouncing off our dry, dry shells;
first whiff of weather,
pens stilled their daily dire
predictions,
scrawled, instead,
childish smiley faces,
upturned cartoon heads
with bright pink
boat-shaped tongues,
small feet shown madly dancing
as invisible puddles reappeared,
the concrete canvas
splattered,
the sidewalk chalkings,
one big baby's finger painting;
ink and scribe
finding the old
playful smear
12/31/2011
Posted on 12/31/2011
Copyright © 2025 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 12/31/11 at 10:32 PM "playful smear"....I like that as a discription of poetry itself! But, I know about your weather woes. Thanks. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 01/01/12 at 04:39 PM I like the opening lines, as the "gray sailed" remids me much of my own skies. The rest also a pleasure to read, taking me back to my own childhood and playfulness. Unfortunately the sidewalks here all all buried in layers of snow. :o) |
| Posted by Lori Blair on 01/05/12 at 07:45 PM Reminds me much of my boys when they were little..and I adored the way you sailed..:) but then I adore all your work! |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 01/09/12 at 02:31 PM plain pure and simply put, this is a wonderful poem. it eggs on so many emotions. it thrills and is simply delightful to any sense worth its gestalt. |
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