Monday, January 15, 2007

Winter's Ice

One Last Word

Within her heart is snow fall.
Inch by inch covering the scorched place
where the dream took light, blazed and died
its sputtering ashen death.

Silence befalls this place.
Only the cold hiss of ice crystals
landing en masse like cruise ship
tourists overtaking the shore.

Surely they’ve never been here before.
They peruse the shops looking for perfect gifts.
The conch shell he’d brought from Florida?
The beret from Paris? The poetry?

No, they are agitated in their cold
obnoxious way. They want service.
They want a cold drink by the pool.
They wonder why they came here at all.

Still they settle into their icy silence
awaiting the only other sound they will ever make.
The crunch of a new traveler’s footsteps into her heart.
Hoping to conjure the arctic explorer’s of tomorrow

to say one last word.



Joseph Gallo said...

They want service.
They want a cold drink by the pool.
They wonder why they came here at all.

You've gone into an intersting direction here, Joni, trackless, as if you're the first to pass this way. Very well done.

billie said...

I tried to leave a comment earlier today but couldn't get it to "stick."

It was something to the effect of how prolific you are and how the poems seem to be getting both bigger in scope as well as more specific at the same time.

Great work..!


Lynn said...

I don't like snow.
I DO like this.
Well done, Joni.

Joni said...

Joseph, thanks. "Trackless" - I like that.

Billie - Actually this one is from a year ago. I'm too busy these days to even think about writing and stressed enough to wonder about fruits of my labor if I did. Tomorrow I go on a business trip. Maybe then I'll have a moment to be still with a moving pen.

Lynn - Glad you like it. Thanks!

the psycho therapist said...

I love the beauty of snow and ice crystals and sit in wonder at the heating power contained within.

Travellin' mercies.