by Megan Guimbellot
All the leaves are curled and crunchy// blown about by the winter wind// it whistles through the cold iron fence posts
rattling the bare bone fingers of trees// they bow their heads and pray for warmer days.
All the birds flying south wonder if they should fly on until they reach the equator
because it is brisk here/ colder than predicted.
The sun dips below the horizon and the short winter shadows bleed into the night// there is no dusk in December.
There is wind
More than necessary// enough to chill fingertips and burn throats// lungs and eyes ache and water until a door opens and you step inside.
A fire burning, warm, a beacon as familiar as breathing. It washes over you like a wave left over from childhood winters spent on Florida beaches
expected, but sudden all at once.
It launches a tingling in your fingers and toes/ torn between moving closer to drown in the heat and light
and pausing to drink in the feeling of relief// of how good it feels to know that it had been waiting for you/ patient/ inviting
And in that instant you know for certain that braving the cold is more than worth it
just to feel the warmth.
Author's Note: This, of course, is how I feel about you.
Posted on 01/01/2014
Copyright © 2021 Megan Guimbellot
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 01/01/14 at 06:23 AM|
Powerful entry into the new year. This poem really hits home, as we here in Ottawa Canada have been stuck in a deep freeze since the beginning of November. Continued success with your writing Megan in 2014.
|Posted by Gail Wolper on 01/06/14 at 03:37 AM|
A beautiful poem in that it is seasonal, and the note clarifies that it is intended as a love poem. You could even title it thusly. That would help the average reader interpret it more deeply.