Sunday, January 9, 2011

<{cold horizons}-{a mixtape}>


















{three}
at the prospect of the coming months
i rub my feet together like two sticks
i should probably strip the tree of tinsel this afternoon
toss it’s dead, dry body into the shallow snow beyond the plow drifts
maybe clear a path to the barn
but it’s likely i won’t
i can feel the weight of that tree just looking at it
can feel the labor of it in my heart
once again the cold horizon calls to me thru the curtains
as the old furnace issues another cough
the house creaking
rattling from one end to the other like a shiver in the spine
man is wood tough!
oh God how i wish i was as tough as a tree
strong & upright
i feel like a bent birch
cold & heavy like a snow bank
dark as night
there’s time yet i suppose for me to take up my tree
it would likely do me good to get out
walk the length of the road to the mailbox
let my eyes tear up with wind
take in the cutting air like a winston
sure as sundown, it would do me good
and surely i’ve got a mind to do it
but i’ve minded these things before
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2 comments:

  1. this was the first "cold horizon" poem i wrote - it inspired the idea for the rest. it, coupled with the mixtape, are meant to embody the winter blues.

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  2. The last four lines really bring it home. I love "take in the cutting air like a winston/ sure as sundown, it would do me good". Sounds like the lyrics to a great song.

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