Sunday, November 13, 2016

November 13, 2016 Waiting for a Change in the Weather/ The Sunday Whirl #274, Sunday's Whirligig #85, Poets United Poets Pantry

Waiting for a Change in the Weather

black eyes flash       rain drops streak the windowpane         tears smudge make-up

sparkle like diamonds     there is a certain fear that lays waiting         i want to run

until out of breath           when hope fades      death slips her arm around my shoulders

she reminds me /she is here       she walks with me                holds my hand

i gaze at her                  her long silk skirt brushes the floor           her skirt is black

the color of her eyes       sometimes when living is hard              she pens her answer

she is the only hope                   she is certain                          she is faithful



the building is cold/empty      your footsteps in the hall            echo against the walls

decorated with neglect            the day shifts                              the sun comes out

the weather is warm/indian summer     is it winter yet               a clown appears

rolls/tumbles/tickles             makes us laugh                    to think the weather is warm

yet... it maybe winter          everything is brown        we wait for winter to reveal itself

to cover the world with fashionable winter white     shift our mood      the fire in the hearth

warms the house              we snuggle under the covers               post the letter

with black eyes shining         we dream of spring                        wait for your response



November 13, 2016       

8 comments:

ZQ said...

Annel, that was awesome...
ZQ

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I can feel the pain in "when hope fades / death slips her arm around my shoulders". Sometimes that long sleep seems easier than living. I love the image of that soft white covering the world and making it all look fresh and new.

brudberg said...

I love how the weather move back and forth... like being stuck in limbo between hope and despair... when weather is metaphor for life or life is just the same as weather.

Mary said...

I am with you throughout this poem. Step by step by step!

Old Egg said...

This is one of you most beautiful pieces of poetry Annell.

Susan said...

"i want to run / until out of breath"

Me, too. And I will take death's hand when she comes. meanwhile, I will paint "the walls / decorated with neglect" a "fashionable winter white" and pull up a chair to sit a while.

I enjoyed this very much!
(And thank you for your comment on my poem.)

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Beautiful!!!❤️ My absolute favourite by you, Annell ❤️

signed...bkm said...

This is amazing Annell. I think about those who have been taken from us. Leonard Cohen and today Gwen Ifill... as we wait for a response from the one who walks so closely to us...bkm

Not Just A Cup

  Not Just a Cup       Southern born Not a tea drinker Always coffee For me   Although I often find  Bitter taste Of the dark brew A bit muc...