Saturday, January 17, 2015

Winding Down


The winter wind is shushing me
too loudly
pursing cold lips
against the flat window pane
and hissing and moaning
like some rude, unloved librarian,
having turned out 
all the lights,
having re-shelved 
all her dusty books
so that tables are cold-heartedly bare,
having glared with Stygian determination
across the vast echoes of time depleted of hope, 
and
drawing a gray bedraggled curtain
partially hiding that steel/still cold moon
as if darkening the winter night
with its pinpoint star...stark darkness
hurling one last angry rattle
to check 
that the doors are indeed locked
before throwing her cape across the gust
and pushing the wind
to bang relentlessly at my door.


11 comments:

Angie said...

What a vivid picture your words have drawn me into.

Barbara Shallue said...

Brrrr! You just made me doubly grateful for our warm temps and sunshine! Beautiful and poetic piece, though, and I love that photo!

messymimi said...

Cold indeed! There were a couple of librarians at our high school who were icy, but not quite that icy.

Linda Reeder said...

Remarkable writing!

Red said...

I always like your poetry. I like the description of winter and how it treats us.

Granny Annie said...

So lovely:) Your talent abounds. The only thing at my door wanting in is my dog Slim. LOL

Jenny Woolf said...

I love the way you personify the wind. It is like that, indeed, sometimes. Very unfriendly, demanding to get in.

Brian Miller said...

ha. she is banging on my door as well....and i think since i wont let her in...she might tear some shingles off trying to get in the roof...smiles...

Bob Bushell said...

Pure and lovely Tabor.

barbara judge said...

WONDERFUL!

Kat said...

Fantastic!
I think this is one of my favorite poems of yours so far. So vivid.
Wonderfully done!