As cold goes
It’s about as cold as cold knows
As the old frost
Has crossed the porch to your door
And insides are
Now out as crisp clouds billow from mouths.
Heating costs are
Increasing in proportion to the species weaknesses,
Though oft forgotten
Elderly at last have some matters to laugh at in their cots
As rugged young things
Wrap themselves in blankets and shiver like they never have.
The ancient rime of fables
Has returned to wreak its havoc on softened modern man in his lair
And rhythm is taking with it
Those who’ve seen its ilk before and don’t wish to be neglected anymore.
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I like "And insides are Now out as crisp clouds billow from mouths." Initially, I didn't even realize what you were saying. As soon as I did, I liked the whole concept. An entire poem could be written w/that as the subject. Insides are now out. I think of body heat rising, voices, words etc.
ReplyDeleteRhythm is taking with it.. The elderly? Hmmm, that is what it seems to be for me. The rhythm, the cycle, the ancient rime returns. I read & reread your poems because I'm not sure if I'm even understanding them! I'll go with my feelings on this one. It feels right and I like more & more. The elderly are taken but no longer neglected, no longer forgotten
I do tend to write instinctively, and sometimes have no idea where I'm going till there, and it's only wonderful comments like yours Jim that inform me to check again where I actually am. Thank you.
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